


WeirdTober 2020 (Because My Therapist Seems To Think Writing is Good For Me)

by PineconeTrinklebriar



Series: Nightlights [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Monster of the Week, Panic Attacks, Paranormal Investigators, Swearing, therapy positive!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 94,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineconeTrinklebriar/pseuds/PineconeTrinklebriar
Summary: Your love of the macabre has served you well for most of your life. Well, maybe ‘served you well’ was a strong statement, but it had landed you a rewarding job that you got to work side-by-side with the love of your life, your best friend, and your other best friend, so you weren’t about to start complaining now. Sure, it made for a tough middle school experience, back when people were still burning witches, but you survived and had very few physical scars to show for it.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Series: Nightlights [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994629
Comments: 135
Kudos: 31





	1. Abandoned Places

**Author's Note:**

> HI!  
> This is my first public work, but my therapist thinks it's a good idea to give it a try? And I do too I guess? Anyway, I thought that the list of WeirdTober prompts from peppermintmonster on Tumblr looked fun and wanted to try it!  
> Set in an AU loosely based on @keelywolfe's BAON universe, but with more brotherly pairs and a reader insert. Also, you work for the Embassy as a kind of "paranormal investigator", hunting down threats to monster safety on the surface from beings that can use magic but don't have souls. The reader is a mage who is able to sense the magic of such beings and works with the Swapfell bros to hunt them down.  
> And, honestly, if I have to tell you anything else about it for you to be able to read it, I really haven't done my job as an author, huh?  
> (Personality inspirations from Dirty Laundry by @popatochisps and Bones, Picked Clean by @luluwrites because, before them, I didn't know that the Swapfell boys could be anything but assholes.)

Your love of the macabre has served you well for most of your life. Well, maybe ‘served you well’ was a strong statement, but it landed you a rewarding job that you got to do side-by-side with the love of your life, your best friend, and your other best friend, so you weren’t about to start complaining now. Sure, it made for a tough middle school experience, back when people were still burning witches, but you survived and had very few physical scars to show for it.

Mental scars were a different story but, eh, everyone has baggage.

But tonight really wasn’t about your job or saving the world or what the fuck ever else you got up to on a typical Tuesday. Tonight, you were carting along a few more souls than normal because they wanted to be spooked and there was no one better to be safely spooked with than the embassy’s supernatural security squad. You could feel irritation radiating from your Sans, but it was drowned out by the anxious excitement that you felt coming off of everyone else in droves.

“Are we sure this is safe?” Papyrus asked in a stage whisper. Good for him for trying, anyway.

“Of course,” Blue responded, voice at the same level as his tall counterpart, “Black and Ella wouldn’t bring us here if it were not safe.” He paused and looked over at you and his eyelights flickered nervously. “Right?”

“If you’re feeling nervous, perhaps we should leave,” your Sans suggested tersely. He crossed his arms and looked at you, looking like a petulant teen, a fact that was only heightened by the all-black hoodie, dark jeans, and combat boots that he was wearing. He was really living up to that dumb nickname he’d signed on for.

You placed your hand encouragingly on Blue’s shoulder. “Of course we wouldn’t. It’s just an abandoned amusement park. Creepy, but with no creeps.” You tossed him your best encouraging smile, but the small skeleton seemed less than convinced. 

“‘Sides,” Stretch spoke up from where he was practically climbing Edge’s back, “their magic scanners’d be goin’ wild if there’re any alliumedes here. I made sure of it.” 

You obediently held up your modified iPhone and grinned. “No spooks,” you confirmed, opening the app that Stretch created to help with magic detection. While you didn’t strictly  _ need _ the app, you had been sensing alliumede magic yourself for centuries before these guys came around, it was helpful to give you a visual. Tonight, there were no flashing red lights of evil intent. There weren’t even any soft yellow lights of intentless free magic, nothing to worry about. Monsters had magic, sure, and mages did too, but alliumedes were different. Monster, mages, and humans (whatever small amount they had) drew their magic directly from their souls. Alliumedes didn’t even have souls, having either been created sans one (ooooh Sans’d love that) or losing it somewhere along the way. No one really knew where their magic came from; they were too dangerous for mages to study and monsters didn’t really have much access in their cave. 

Wherever their weird ass magic came from, it wasn’t the same kind that everyone else had. Most monsters and mages couldn’t sense alliumedes like they could each other and that made them pretty dang scary. 

Of course, you wouldn’t know. You’d always been able to feel their magic distinctly, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end. That weird little quirk’s what landed you your job, actually. 

Anyway. The hairs on the back of your neck agreed with the phone you were waving in Stretch’s face:  no alliumedes present, no reason to worry.

The sight seemed to calm Stretch a bit and he loosened his grip on his husband enough for him to breathe. Which was good because Edge’s teleportation sickness meant that he would want to climb over the giant fence in front of you rather than taking the skeleton express across.

Before anyone could move, Sans stepped forward. “Some rules before we go inside,” he said grandly, and boy was his Captain of the Royal Guard showing. “First, we all stay together. I do not care if you saw some wonderful trinket or bobble across the way, you do not wander off unless you want my foot so far up your ass you will be able to taste it along with your Halloween candy.” Edge rolled his eyelights but wisely said nothing. “Second, no going inside anywhere until myself or Edge deems it safe.” That seemed to perk Edge up a little bit. These two loved nothing more than to be in charge. It was your turn to roll your eyes now. You accidentally collapse a mine shaft  _ one time _ and suddenly you weren’t allowed to judge the structural integrity of buildings. “Third, no touching anything. And finally--”

“Have fun!” you interrupted, throwing your arm around his shoulders. You hid a grin at the tension you felt there; he hated to be interrupted and hated it more when it was one of his little speeches. He didn’t say anything though, instead leaning over and pushing a bony kiss to your cheek. “The teleporters can take us across, or you can climb the fence if you prefer!” You grinned as Edge pushed Stretch off of him gently and walked towards the fence. Stretch grabbed Blue and Mutt grabbed Papyrus. All four popped out of existence and popped back on the other side of the fence. 

“It’d be so much faster to ride me, baby love,” Stretch cooed at Edge, who was already near the top of the tall fence. 

"Fast?” Edge squawked indignantly. Luckily, he was a skilled climber and managed not to lose his grip in his horrified swoon.

“I would prefer not to hear anything about your rides, brother,” Blue said primly. “There’s only so much an older brother wishes to know about his sweet babybones.” Mutt shook with silent laughter beside him, Papyrus still holding his arm and trying to get his bearings.

You adjusted your arm, dropping it from Sans’ shoulders to his waist. “I’m ready for my favorite ride,” you said softly, barely audible even against his ear canal. The indignant snort and violet blush was more than worth the embarrassment your own soul felt at the innuendo. He pulled you close and whispered, “Hold on.” Then, a quick, familiar cold sensation of the void and you were on the other side of the fence watching Edge yank Stretch into an indignant hug and whisper something into his ear that turned Stretch a brilliant shade of orange. 

“Okay, let’s get started!” you said brightly before those two could begin making out.

You led everyone down the center path, once a brightly painted brick path, now overgrown with weeds. Everyone pulled out the flashlights you had insisted they bring. How many times had you gotten in trouble because you ran down your cell battery using it for a light? Enough that you now carried a flashlight with you at all times, that’s how many. And don't even get you started on the old school actual torch days. You'd once spent four days lost in a dark labyrinth of tunnels because the wind extinguished the light you brought with you. That was more than enough for you, thanks. 

The lights revealed overgrown stands that nature was slowly taking back, wooden cutouts of cartoon characters with chipping paint and, in the distance, large rides that you could only hope were deemed safe enough for you to explore. In one hand, you held your cell phone with Stretch’s app up (you could never be too careful, not when half of your family was there) and in the other, a camera that you hoped to get some interesting shots with. A little side cash from creepy photos never hurt; after all, Gyftmas was coming up soon. You wore a headlamp to keep your hands free, but that didn’t stop Sans from frowning at you anyway. “Must you keep your hands full?” he hissed.

“Um… someone has to have the ghost app up,” you said nonchalantly. He was just pissy because he didn’t like bringing the others out, especially without Sans and Red as back up. The only reason he agreed at all was that Edge and Mutt were both coming.

You liked to think your charms had something to do with it, too, thank you.

Eventually, your party began arguing about where to go. Half of them wanted to check out the defunct water park section. Others were more interested in the rollercoaster tracks rising up in the distance. Before the fight could turn bloody, you raised your voice to call out a suggestion: “How about I take the rollercoaster group and Sa--er, Black takes the water park group?”

The look that Black gave you was enough to curdle milk, but you simply looked back at him blandly, giving him your best doe-eyes. You had seen the waterpark area of this place too many times to count and it was, frankly, boring as hell. If you had to go to that place one more time you were going to puke. The rollercoaster however… you usually didn’t get to check out that section of the park, too far away from the safety of the front gate, but today you had teleporters. 

“That sounds marvelous!” Papyrus exclaimed. “I, the Great Papyrus, shall accompany El to the rollercoaster.”

That seemed to settle it. You, Papyrus, and Mutt were headed to the rollercoaster while Sans took Edge, Stretch, and Blue to the water park. You could see Sans physically fighting every instinct he had to forbid you from going, especially without him or Edge, but praise be, the skeleton can be taught. He didn’t say a word about it, only a terse warning to be careful and a meaningful stare at Mutt, Then, his group was off and Mutt was grabbing your arm for a quick trip through the void. 

That was one of the multiverse’s weirdest quirks, in your opinion. None of the other brothers could both teleport, only your Sans and Papyrus. When the other sets of brothers figured it out, it set off a chain reaction of attempted teleports that never succeeded. No one could figure out why the weird superpower went to both Swapfell brothers, but it did and no one else and that was it. You long-suspected that Sans knew the answer but wasn’t telling. You also suspected that it had something to do with why he avoided labs like the other Sanses, but you never asked. He promised once that he would not lie to you, and in return you promised that you would try not to ask questions that he didn’t want to answer. 

It just meant that any question you asked was more important, and every answer he gave was more meaningful.

Plus, you’d seen a lot of shit in the 429 years you’d been alive and there was a good deal of it that you didn’t want to talk about either.

The roller coaster track was sturdy enough, you figured, for the three of you to walk along it. You did tell Papyrus to keep a hand on Mutt in case the thing started to come down; that way, he could easily teleport the two of you to safety if he needed to. After all, neither Former Captain of the Royal Guard had approved the structure and heavens knew you’d never hear the end of it if it collapsed and killed a skeleton.

You walked along, pausing for pictures or for Papyrus to admire the view, with Stretch’s app open in case of danger. You were in the middle of snapping a particularly poignant picture of a flower growing on the track when the app went nuts. You blinked in surprise when you looked down at the screen; the whole thing was lit up with bright red, the whole place surrounded by evil intent.  _ How… _ You didn’t feel any alliumedes around you, even when you actively concentrated on it. You had  _ never _ missed something like this when you were looking for it. Hell, something with this much magic would have woken you up from a dead sleep, you’d wager. It didn’t make any damn sense; you should have been able to sense this much magic from the gate, furthermore from ten feet earlier on the track. Whatever this thing was was either powerful beyond imagining or your app was malfunctioning. Either way, time to make like a tree and fuck off, as Stretch was fond of saying. “Mutt--” you began, but were cut off when something manifested on the track in front of you. Automatic as breathing, you threw up a shield. It shimmered a light purple like your soul and you stepped protectively in front of the monsters. You didn’t want to get hit by an evil ghost or whatever, but at least intent didn’t linger on you like it would on them.

There was another pop behind you and you didn’t have to look to realize you were surrounded. You extended your shield and tried again to tell Mutt to teleport Papyrus the hell out of there. 

Unfortunately, Papyrus wasn’t nearly as used to nighttime capers as you and Mutt, and he staggered backward in fright. You had a split second to register how close he was to the edge of the track before he was careening over the edge, a loud yelp the last noise you heard from him before he tumbled. 

Mutt was shit at blue magic.

You were also shit at blue magic.

Well shit.

You dropped the shield and ran over to the edge of the track. Without looking, you dove off the side. If you could get close enough to grab him, to form a shield, the shield would absorb a lot of the damage when you hit the ground. He would get hurt, yeah, you both would, but he would walk away from it probably, but only if you could catch him, and--

And you fell past him, where he hovered in the air a few feet below the track. You twisted your neck and saw that his soul was blue. You immediately tried to form a shield, not the first time you’ve done it when you were falling, nope, and just before you hit the ground you heard a soft ping and you stopped falling. You were close enough to the ground that your hair was touching it. You let out a shaky breath, then looked up and over your shoulder. Three sets of eyelights were peeking over the track: one purple, one red, and one white.

It took a minute for the blue magic to get you hauled back up to the track. It wasn’t a small distance, you realized as you hung there, and you would have really gotten hurt if you’d hit the ground. Like, smashed your brains on the sidewalk hurt. When you were on the track again, you stared angrily at the two skeletons that were sheepishly not meeting your eyelights.

“Red?” you spat. “Com? What are you two doing here?”

This Sans (not  _ your _ Sans, no, this world’s Sans, all laziness and blue hoodies, the one you insisted on calling a nickname in passive-aggressive solidarity with  _ your _ Sans) looked chagrined. “We thought…” he rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled his tennis shoes.

“No, you didn’t, but go on.”

He sighed. “We thought it’d be funny to scare ya,” he finally admitted.

“‘Twas too,” Red added, “‘til you and Paps tried to do some impromptu skydivin’.”

“Sans!” Papyrus yelled, stomping his foot hard enough that the track shifted a little under your feet. Mutt grabbed your arm reflexively and, unfortunately for him, it reminded you that the silent skeleton existed.

You rounded on him the second the track stopped quivering. “Did you know about this?” He didn’t answer, but he also didn’t need to. He was shuffling his feet just like Com. “For goodness sake! You’re lucky we didn’t die!” That earned you three blushing skulls. “How’d you hack Stretch’s app? I assume there aren’t any alliumedes up here.”

“That’d be Q here,” Red said, slapping Sans on the back.

“You know if I tell them they’ll kill you two, right? They’ll have to start a line, with Black and Edge right at the front. Stretch won’t be far behind, probably, since you messed with his app baby.”

“While I do not condone killing, I must agree that you certainly made a terrible misstep!” Papyrus declared. “Honestly, Sans! Trying to frighten your friends!”

Red looked you dead in the eyes. "Ya know," he said slowly, "I seem ta remember Black sayin' that he or my bro had to approve it 'fore you went in any buildings."

"That's true," Comic said, all false concern. "Can't imagine how he'd react knowing that his girlfriend and his brother put Paps in danger by taking him a mile up in the air on an unsecured rollercoaster track."

You stiffened. "You wouldn't." But of course, he would, just like you would. You crossed your arms. "Fine. How about a truce? I don't tell Sans that you nearly murdered two people and you don't tell him about this little adventure."

"And ya come out with us next time we go to karaoke," Red said.

"I hate karaoke."

"Yeah, but ya got the best rendition of Margaritaville around."

You grimaced, but you knew when you were beat. You held out your pinkie and Red took it solemnly. "No telling Sans," you said.

"No telling Sans," Comic agreed as he also took your pinkie. He glanced around with a grin that you could only describe as manic. "Who's down for a little karaoke?"


	2. Deep Space Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew there were literal portals to outer space just outside the city limits?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Description of an injury involving broken bones. Also, talks about a couple of things that can happen to you in space. It's not graphic and everyone ends up okay (everyone always will end up okay here), but I have no idea what needs warnings and I'd rather tell you than have anyone regret that I didn't. **

“Do you think there’s a version of us from space?” Stretch drawled idly in your ear.

“Mmm…” you said noncommittally, sweat trickling down the side of your cheek as you adjusted your grip on the stalactite. Stalagmite? You weren’t sure. Stretch probably knew, but he was on a rant about space monsters just now and you didn’t want to interrupt. Plus, the lecture that came with it would probably make Sans smash his earpiece. Again. Especially since he himself had already told you the answer to that question. Twice.

“I mean, there’s Murder World. There’s Lazy Murder World--” Sans made a rude noise at that, but it didn’t phase Stretch. Sans tended to be less scary from a million miles away and Stretch wasn’t all that scared of him to begin with. “--Lazy Normal World. That’s mine, by the way.”

“Cute nickname,” you grunted.

“There’s Planet Cannibal and, of course, our new home sweet home. Maybe there’s a version of us that lives on spaceships. Oh, maybe it’s like Firefly! Do you think I’d be the engineer? I think I’d be the engineer.”

“I think you’d be the bait,” Sans muttered.

Stretch didn’t even dignify that with a comment, choosing to continue his rant. “Ellie would be the badass second-in-command, obviously. Mutt’d be… Uh… There really wasn’t a silent artist type on Firefly…”

“Prob’ly a companion,” Mutt said. You could practically hear the brow waggle in his soft voice. You didn’t bother to suppress an eye roll.

That comment earned him a hearty laugh from Stretch and a growl from Sans. “Focus,” he hissed. 

Since you preferred to focus on literally anything besides the burning in your arms and the stench of death in the cave (and because you enjoy torturing Sans whenever you get the chance), you asked, “And what would Sans be?”

You could practically see the smile when Stretch said, “Well, I heard we’d need some bait.”

Whatever Sans was going to say was swallowed up in a cave-shaking growl. Your stalactite (mite?) shook violently and you silently cursed all of the times you slept in instead of joining Sans at the gym. Which was every time. “Speaking of bait,” you said as the growl died down. 

You felt your soul ping blue and you carefully, slowly let go of the tite/mite, trusting Mutt to hold onto you. The cave wasn’t a small one and you doubted that you and your space suit would both survive the crash into the floor below and, also, trust wasn’t your default emotion. But Mutt continued to earn it as he lowered you gracefully until you were hovering in the middle between the ground and the ceiling. 

Eye-level for a ~~**REDACTED**~~. 

You didn’t have to wait long to see if the thing would take the bait. Moments later, the cave shook with another growl, followed by the vibration of hundreds of feet making their way towards you. You braced yourself, readying your magic. The air was abuzz with the mutant, alien allimagic of the ~~**REDACTED**~~ , enough that it was practically choking you. This particular beastie’s magic felt thick and viscous around you, swirling with the scent of decay. It was the most you’d felt of this specific alliumede’s magic, even back on Earth when you ducked into the cave that became the final resting place of several unfortunate hikers. As soon as Edge’d gotten word that humans were wondering if a “mountain monster” was responsible for the carnage, the embassy’d put your team on it. 

Who knew there were literal portals to outer space just outside Ebbott city limits?

Almost without warning, your vision filled with a brilliant green eyeball, big enough that it filled nearly the whole space in front of you. Its pupil was a slit like a snake, though you doubted that it shared any ancestry with Earth reptiles. That belief was all but confirmed when the eye blinked, then phased immediately into a huge, salivating mouth full of yellow spikey teeth. You tried to breathe through your mouth so that the smell of decay didn’t knock you out, instead focusing on the magic coursing through your hands. As planned, you launched a shield, one that completely surrounded the disembodied mouth. You heard a soft pop of teleportation and the thing began writhing, roaring, trying to access its magic source to change shapes again. Your shield did its job, though, holding so that the thing couldn’t shift on you again.

The thrashing got worse and the whole cave shook around you. You felt your soul whine in your chest at the exertion, but you shoved it down and focused on your shield. If your shield broke, you’d definitely die. And Sans and Mutt would probably die too. And that’d be a sure fire way to piss off the rest of the skeleton clan. Not to mention the paperwork you’d have to fill out; you doubted that Edge would accept “death by giant alien monster” as an excuse to not get everything filed in triplicate. Talk about a headache.

Another thrash, and you knew Sans had to be close to finishing his part of the plan. Turns out, this alliumede drew its magic from some type of magic organ. It was about the size and shape of Blue’s Volkswagen Beetle, with sparks of magic shocking off of it. If you shielded the brain (was it a brain? Whatever the main thinking part was on this sucker), it cut the alliumede off from its magic. No more shapeshifting, no hiding the organ, no escaping back to Earth to eat more unsuspecting hikers and turn the fickle court of human opinion against monsters. That part, the shield part, that was your job, and as taxing as it was, you didn’t envy Sans his. He had to actually break the magic organ in this thing; all you had to do was make sure it didn’t shift again so that it could hide it from him. Super easy.

The thing gave what felt like _had_ to be its death throes. It _had_ to be. Your soul gave its own half-hearted plea for rest, but it knew better than to expect that from you.

Unfortunately, the alliumede managed to hit the side of the cavern during said death throes. You heard rocks collapsing behind you and, before you could think to worry about Mutt’s hiding spot, your soul wasn’t blue anymore and you were falling.

You focused as hard as you could on the shield in case you were wrong about Sans killing the thing, waiting as long as possible to flip the shield to yourself. Your shield crashed into the floor at what felt like speeds that would break the sound barrier. It was enough that you bounced like three (or four?) times. The shield softened the crash, made obvious by the fact that you weren’t a smear on the ground, but you still immediately felt it in every cubic inch of your body. You wondered how many bones you broke as your shield dissipated and left you laying on your back on the cave floor. Every breath hurt and darkness threatened your vision, but you fought it. You saw that the ~~**REDACTED**~~ had completely disintegrated above you, so at least that danger was gone, but you could feel the vacuum of space tearing at your face. Your helmet was broken. Luckily, Edge had insisted on a “Worst Case Scenario Survival PowerPoint: Space Edition” so you knew not to hold your breath, even as you felt your oxygen ripped away. The visual Edge showed you of lungs inflating like a balloon and exploding did its job; you were good on exploding lungs, thanks. You doubted that even Blue’s superb healing coupled with your meager abilities would be enough to repair a burst organ. Edge had included a portion in his presentation where he asked Blue if he would be able to heal burst lungs, but he’d just looked at the camera with deep irritation and told Edge that skeletons didn’t have lungs so he “certainly couldn’t speculate.”

Either way, you’d prefer not to risk it.

Your thoughts kept swirling, your promised 10-20 seconds of consciousness counting down. Just before unconsciousness took you, you felt bony hands grip your upper arm--probably the safest place to teleport you from if you were worried about a broken spine and you really, really were--and relaxed into the touch. You felt the void’s tendrils wrap around you and you let that inky blackness take you.

***

You woke up slowly, comfortably warm. You were laying on something soft, propped up into a near-sitting position with something solid at your back. You didn’t open your eyes right away, choosing instead to curl back against the warm solid line you were leaned against. It shifted a little behind you and you recognized an arm wrapping around your middle, just beneath your chest. Finally, you moved a bit to look up at the skeleton you knew was holding you. There was Sans, wearing his dumb lil glasses, reading a book over your shoulder. You were tangled against him on his couch, wearing the shorts and tank top you’d had on under your spacesuit. He didn’t look up from his book, but you knew he was watching you anyway.

“Mutt?” you asked. He had to be okay; Sans wouldn’t be sitting here holding you if he wasn’t. But you wanted to hear it. Outloud.

“He’s fine,” Sans said like you’d just asked him a silly question. “Sleeping it off upstairs. He got knocked over the head with a rock and it broke his concentration. He didn’t even have the good sense to get knocked unconscious by it.”

Aw, he’d been worried about Mutt. That’s likely why Sans had you on the couch in his and Mutt’s shared house rather than your own bed at home. He couldn’t very well watch both of you if you were across town from one another.

A gloved hand traced the side of your face. “And how are you, my dear? You, at least, knew to fall unconscious to excuse yourself dropping the shield.”

You rolled to look up at him in fake anger. The fact that you moved so easily told you that someone had been over to heal you. Probably Blue. “I held that shield longer than anyone else could have! I didn’t switch until the millisecond before I hit the ground,  _ Captain _ !”

You felt him tense under you at the reminder of you hitting the ground. Welp, that was the exact opposite of the playful banter you were going for. “I’m fine,” you told him, injecting as much playful gentleness into your tone as you could.

“You are now,” he corrected, “because Stretch had Blue here waiting to heal you when we got back. You did have a broken cheekbone, a broken arm, and several broken ribs.”

You winced. That’s a lot, but, “You know that’s not so bad for a mage as it would be for a human or even a skeleton, babe. I’m fine now.”

“You should have pulled the shield earlier.” He said it like he hadn’t just been joking about you pulling the shield at all minutes earlier.

You shrugged. “I couldn’t be sure the thing was dead. I gave you as much time as I could.” 

“I don’t--” he cut himself off with an audible click from his jaw. He shook his head and set the book down so that he could wrap both arms around you. You made a soft noise of contentment and snuggled in closer, shutting your eyes in happiness. “I am just glad you are uninjured now,” he said finally.

You saw it for what it was: a peace offering. He wanted to bust out your Favorite Fight, yelling at you  _ again _ about you taking risks or worse, getting hurt, trying to protect _him_. He desperately wanted to go all “Captain of the Royal Fucking Guard” on you, but he didn’t want to fight. You’d had that fight so many times that you both knew that it would only lead to you storming off to your place and a couple of days of awkward apologies. Usually, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, but if you had to guess, and you didn’t because it didn’t matter right now, you would bet it had something to do with seeing a rock slide hit his brother and his girlfriend crash to the ground in nearly the same moment. Probably feeling a touch vulnerable right now.

That was fine. You knew how to help with that. 

You slipped your fingers between his phalanges and leaned up so that you could kiss his cheek. Then, you snuggled back down and asked softly, “What was the difference between a stalactite and a stalagmite again?”

Sans grinned down at you and launched into an explanation that you only half-listened to. Instead, you let the cadence of his voice, his lofty happiness, lull you back to sleep, caged in by skeletal strength and safety. He hadn’t said it, and you hadn’t either, but you were really glad to have the Captain of the Fucking Royal Guard at your back, keeping you safe, no matter what planet you found yourselves on.


	3. Hitchhiker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thursday date night gets a little... murder-y.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **There's some light innuendo and a bit of making out in this chapter. Nothing too graphic!**

Barring any apocalyptic events or alliumedes bent on the destruction of monster kind, Thursday was date night. It started back when your relationship with Sans was just blossoming, back when you still called him Black and weren’t 100% positive he wasn’t just a massive asshole. He had a bad day at the embassy, bad enough that he actually bothered to mention it to you over text, which was nearly unheard of for him. To celebrate his emotional growth in admitting that maybe he wasn’t perfect, you showed up at his and Mutt’s house with Grillby’s and the Cornetto Trilogy. Mutt hit the bricks and the two of you had your first Thursday date. Later, a couple years later, while the two of you were curled up in his bed, Sans would haltingly admit that you showing up with his favorite food to introduce him to his now-favorite series of movies had really sold him on this whole “being in a relationship” thing. That’d been the night that he’d first touched you, too. He’d worked up his courage to slide his arm around your shoulders and it made his soul feel warm and tingly, a feeling he’d never experienced before. To you, it’d been a pretty chill night, but it had changed your boyfriend’s whole outlook on your relationship.

Which probably explained why he showed up at your place with Thai food and the entire Mission Impossible series the next Thursday. Each week, the two of you took turns planning dates, silently getting more and more extravagant as you tried to top the previous week. It took finesse to be the winner; after all, it’s not about the grand gesture. It’s about the overall feel of the date, the atmosphere, the perfect balance of activity, food, and bonding. Sometimes that involved an adventure; certainly, the time that Sans took you bungee jumping was a fond memory. Other times, that involved a quiet night in with your favorite foods, movies, and a little more touching than a simple arm around your shoulders.

Both versions were pleasant for extremely different reasons.

This week, it was Sans’ turn. His instructions were only to “dress warmly and comfortably” so you went with a pair of jeans, some boots, a long sleeve shirt, and a vest. You slipped an adorable little ear cozie over your ears and slipped your phone/wallet combo into your pocket. You really weren’t one for carrying a purse; too easy to get left places. It was backpacks or nothing for you and a backpack didn’t seem necessary for date night.

You stopped primping when a soft knock sounded at the front door of your little house. After the first year together, Sans had stopped knocking on your door and always just teleported directly into the house, unless it was Thursday. On Thursdays, he still rapt at the door like a perfect gentleman coming to retrieve you from your father’s home and inquire after your virtue or whatever. You opened the door to a handsome skeleton in a sweater and jeans, holding a bottle of Coke out to you like it was flowers. You accepted it excitedly, rewarding him with an exuberant kiss. He’d stopped bringing flowers a long time ago, when he figured out that you were terrified your cats would eat them and die. Now, he brought assortments of favorite items on Thursdays. Tonight, your favorite beverage. 

He followed you a little as you broke the kiss, his eyelights a little hazy. He gave you a once over and then pulled you in for another kiss. “You look beautiful,” he murmured against your mouth, a hand slipping lower on your hip.

“You know, I always love a Thursday night in,” you whispered back, giving him your best bedroom eyes.

You watched him visibly waver, eyelights darting behind you toward the stairs that led to the bedroom, but his resolve stiffened after a moment. “No, no,” he said, his voice at its normal volume. “You little minx. No, I have quite the evening planned for us.”

You grinned up at him and took the arm that he offered you. “I also love Thursday nights out,” you said with a wink. “Where’re we going?”

“You’ll see,” Sans said back, an alluring lilt of laughter to his voice.

***

Two hours later, the sexy flirtiness was absolutely, unequivocally gone. Your legs were tucked up in the passenger seat of your Jeep and you stared out the window as if simply staring at the thickening woods would make your destination manifest in front of you. “Use the GPS,” you ground out. “Stretch even upgraded the damn thing on both our phones! It doesn’t make you less of a badass to use the tools science has given us!”

Sans huffed at you, not even dignifying you with a verbal response. Yeah, this was the third time you’d suggested the GPS, but he was lost in the forest and you were starving. Ever since the Great Depression, you made it your business to not get hungry, and right now you were past hungry, right onto hangry. 

“I’m not lost,” Sans hissed at you for the billionth time.

“Right. Sure.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket with a little more gusto than was strictly required, sending your cards all flying out of the wallet on the back. You made a frustrated noise and leaned forward to pick up the contents of your wallet. You were still fishing around for your license when Sans slammed on the breaks, slamming your head into the dashboard.

You popped back up, rubbing your forehead. “What the fuck, Sans?” you yelled, but you felt the anger ebb away when you saw him just staring straight ahead at the road, his mouth slightly agape. “What?” you asked, peering through the windshield. 

There was nothing there. The headlights caught a little fog swirling in the dark and a thick forest of trees, but nothing else that you could see. “Sans?” you asked again, slower this time.

“Who is that?” he asked, his voice dripping with awe.

“There’s no one there. Sans, baby, you’re freaking me out.”

That had no effect on him. To your horror, he opened his door and staggered out of the Jeep. “Sans!” you yelled. “Get back in the car!”

He didn’t.

You grappled with your seatbelt while he staggered forward until he was standing directly in front of the Jeep. Finally, you got the seatbelt off and fell out of the Jeep yourself. The second you did, you felt the malevolent intent swirling around you, thick enough to choke. “Shit!” you gasped. “Shit, Sans, there’s something here!” 

It felt like swimming to try to get to him, shoving your way through the magic thick in the air. As you approached him, he began jerking. He looked like a sick puppet, a marionette whose puppeteer was having a seizure. It took everything in you, but you didn’t touch him, choosing instead to throw up a shield around the two of you. “Leave him alone!” you yelled at whatever was in the dark forest.

As suddenly as it started, the jerking stopped. Sans stood completely still, staring ahead. “Sans?” you tried again, only to jump back when his head snapped towards you.

Everything about it was wrong. His posture wasn’t quite right; it was too straight, pulled up so much that his spine was bent up. His ever-present smirk now had a darkness behind it that wasn’t his. The worst part was his eyelights. Instead of the light purple that you’d come to love, they were a bright red, redder even than Red or Edge’s eyelights.

Yeah… That wasn’t Sans.

“Hey there,” you said cautiously, not dropping your shield.

“Hello,” your boyfriend’s body said. It wasn’t even his voice; it was too high pitched, like a maniacal child was speaking through his mouth. 

“I would really love it if you would get out of my boyfriend,” you said more calmly than you really felt. “It’s date night and I’m really looking forward to the happy ending, if you catch my drift.”

Sans snorted at you, a sound that was colder than any you’d ever heard from him. “Date night? Some date! The two of you bickering with one another, not noticing you were driving deeper and deeper into my forest. You should be glad to be rid of him. I’m sure he is to be rid of you.”

You suppressed the eyeroll you felt at that. Cool. Another alliumede that wanted to break up you and your boyfriend. Why all of these creatures had so much time to worry about your relationship status, you would never understand. “Thank you for your warning about our relationship. You can go now.”

You probably should have anticipated the creepy cackling that followed that, you’ve been doing this long enough to know better, but shit if it wasn’t still creepy coming out of your Sans. “I’ll make you a deal,” the thing said when it was done with its laughing fit.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“What’s the deal?” you asked, trying not to sound too bored.

“You drive me where I want to go and I’ll give you back your boyfriend.”

Yeah, and this was your first day on the job and you’d never encountered an intelligent alliumede before. Right. “Sounds great,” you said flatly, walking over to the driver’s side of the Jeep. Sans staggered a bit before heading over to the passenger side. “You got a name?” you asked as you eased the Jeep out of park.

“We do not require a name.”

“Sure, sure. I’m gonna call you Hitchhiker then. Cool?” That earned you another snort. You ignored it. “So, what’s your deal?” you asked.

“I have seen centuries of --”

“No, no, sorry. Not interested in the whole speech. Just wanna know why you’re possessing my bonefriend. I’m assuming that you can’t leave the forest on your own. It’s probably like an ancient curse placed by an ancient mage or some shit, yeah?”

Hitchhiker was silent for a moment, then looked at you again. “I am held here by ancient magicks, yes. But you will free me from my prison. Your boyfriend’s bones shall be my ticket to freedom!”

“Absolutely,” you agreed absentmindedly. “So why exactly did the ancient mages trap you here?”

“A false accusation,” Hitchhiker sneered.

“Sure, but was it, like, murder or not paying taxes or what?” They seemed pretty murder-y but it never hurt to be sure.

“They feared my power!”

“Oh. That’s pretty shitty of them then.”

Hitchhiker blinked at you, before slowly saying, “Yes?” They drew out the word warily.

“I mean, if you were, say, someone who murdered children or something, then banishing you to a forest is an okay punishment I guess. But if they’re just scared because you're strong and independent, that fucking sucks of them.”

You followed their directions and found yourself at the edge of the forest. You shifted the Jeep into park and turned to Hitchhiker. “You’re gonna have to get out of Sans now.”

Hitchhiker hissed at you. Like, literally hissed at you like some sort of feral forest raccoon. “I need this vessel to leave my prison.”

You shook your head. “Sorry. I don’t trust ya to give ‘im back when you get to the other side of the barrier. Time to get out of him.”

“I’ll kill you!” Hitchhiker shrieked, leaning across the console with Sans’ sharpened phalanges reaching for your throat.

“Yeah, I thought you seemed murder-y,” you said, throwing up a shield between you and them. “Alright, I gave you the chance to leave him peacefully.”

Hitchhiker shrieked again, a sound that you hoped to never hear coming out of Sans’ mouth ever again. You dropped the shield and they lunged for you, but you were quicker, backing out of the door and landing in the mud. Hitchhiker followed, landing on their knees in the muck. You flinched, thinking of how much Sans was going to hate that when he came to.

In a split second, they were on you. You felt sharp phalanges graze your neck and gritted your teeth as they drew blood. Perfect. That’s exactly what you needed on date night: a reason for Sans to feel super protective and shitty about himself. But that slash did bring Hitchhiker’s arm in grabbing distance for you, so you grabbed. You yoinked Sans’ sleeve up, exposing his bone. Without hesitation, you pressed the screen of your phone against the exposed ulna.

There was a bright flash of red light, a terrified screech, a flash of malevolent intent that dissipated quickly, and then Sans was leaning on you, letting you guide him back to the Jeep. He sank into the driver’s seat and buried his face in your shoulder, trying to catch his breath. You ran a soothing hand over the place where the phone had pressed on his bone, coating the contact burn with healing magic. 

You sat that way for a few minutes, with you cooing over him and him catching his breath. Finally, he sat up straight and looked at you. One hand traced the scratches on your neck while the other tangled in your hair. “Stretch’s new app packs quite a punch,” he said, still a little breathless.

“Yeah, de-posession spells will do that to ya. I’m just glad he figured out how to store them. Man, those really take it out of the caster and we don’t need both of us bone tired.”

That earned you a small chuckle, those beloved purple eyelights darting away from yours. “I’m sorry I cut you,” he said like he was confessing a grave sin.

“You didn’t,” you insisted. “I picked up a murderous hitchhiker in the deep dark woods and they attacked me. Luckily I kicked their ass.”

That got a more honest chuckle, a little less strained. “That you did, my dear.” His finger skirted the cut, gently wiping away the blood. “Did the storage function on the app work?”

You swiped the screen and revealed another of Stretch’s handy inventions: a magic tracer. It stored the magic signature of the alliumede, which would allow the phone to recognize it if it ever encountered it again. Plus it stored the exact GPS coordinates that the same was taken. Theoretically, one of the teleporters should be able to beam themselves directly to this spot. “Sure did,” you said, showing him.

“We will need to see if we can identify it. It is possible that it’s not as murderous as we thought.” He paused and looked over your shoulder at the forest. “It simply wouldn’t do to leave a sentient creature trapped unless absolutely necessary.”

You felt a sad twinge at that, because that was Sans all over. He acted like he was all tough and didn’t give a shit about anyone, but here he was trying to make sure no one was trapped like the monsters in Swapfell had been. You knew he worried about them, that the universe wasn't as destroyed as they hypothesized, that he'd left his universe to die under a mountain. He'd never said as much, but you _knew_ him. You knew him and,  “I love you so much,” you told him softly. You leaned forward and kissed him sweetly. You pulled back after a moment and smiled at him.

His (once again) purple eyelights flashed mischievously as he leaned up for another kiss, deep and hungry. Before long, he was pulling you into his lap, groaning as you straddled him. You pulled back a little, eyes twinkling in the dark of the woods. “Possessed and lost in a magic forest. How will I ever top this date night?”

He purred and leaned up to nibble at your ear before growling, “I always do love a Thursday night in.”


	4. Abduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is missing... And not in his normal "teleportation" kind of way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter describes a death. Not a major character and it's not graphic.**

Around 4:30 a.m., after two hours of crowding around Red’s tiny 10-inch laptop, you decided that the first thing your loaded boyfriend was doing upon being rescued was buying the super spy a giant computer monitor. If you had to jostle Mutt’s elbow out of your ribs one more time…

It wasn’t his fault; everyone was just worried. You couldn’t blame them. Hell, you were worried. There was something deeply unnerving about the idea that your boyfriend, team leader, and the toughest person you knew could just… vanish. And not in the normal teleporting way, either, nah. No, he’d vanished in the “kidnapped and murdered” way.

You’d first suspected something was going on at around midnight when you let yourself into Sans’ house and found it empty. Mutt not being home wasn’t terribly unusual, but Sans was expecting you and should have been there. You’d tried calling and texting him, only worrying more when he didn’t respond. By 1 a.m., you’d interrupted Mutt’s one night stand to get him on the case. By 2 a.m., you were at Red’s house in Old New Home watching the gremlin trying to pick him up on the cameras around Ebbott. Somehow, word of your missing bonefriend spread to the whole skeleton clan, so by 4:00, Red’s house was full to the brim with nine worried skeletons. 

The cameras downtown showed Sans wandering around visiting various shops earlier that evening. That was pretty typical on nights when you and Mutt were out; Sans really didn’t like being home alone. It took awhile for Red to find the right angle, but eventually, he found Sans pausing at an alley between two restaurants. You squinted at the grainy image and watched as Sans disappeared into the alley.

And never came back out.

“How many shortcuts to that alley?” you asked Mutt, already slipping your earpiece in your ear.

“Three,” he said. He grabbed your arm but paused when Edge grabbed your other arm.

"We have no idea what you two are getting into,” Edge said. “Perhaps this is a situation in which more of us would be better.”

“No,” you said firmly, sure that Mutt was shaking his head behind you. “Look, I know that you’re all worried about Sans. Believe me when I tell you that no one here is more worried about him than his girlfriend and his brother. But it’s not… We will work better on our own, without having to worry about watching over the rest of you.” You raised your hand when you heard voices begin to balk. “Yeah, you’re all very tough. We know. But this is what we--” you gestured to Mutt “--do, and we know how to do this together. And we need all our concentration and Mutt’s magic for this. Please?”

For a second you thought that Edge would argue, that any of them would argue, but Edge reluctantly released your arm. “We will be here,” he said. “You will call us if you need assistance.”

“If Mutt can get there in three shortcuts, I’ll bet I’n do it in one,” Comic said.

You smiled and nodded, then Mutt yanked you into the void with him.  You reappeared in front of the alley and Mutt let go of you. It was a perfectly ordinary alley, dark and dank. “Huh,” you said softly.

“Anything?” Edge’s voice crackled in your ear. 

“No,” you admitted. You didn’t feel anything, no allimagic to speak of.

“Somethin’s off,” Mutt said, squinting at the alley. 

You looked again, but didn’t see anything. “What?” you asked.

"Why’re there no dumpsters? “S between two restaurants. Where’re the dumpsters?”

You blinked at Mutt, then looked back at the alley. He wasn’t wrong; there weren’t any dumpsters. Just a long expanse of dark puddles. Before you could say anything, Mutt was pointing in the vague direction of one of the brick walls lining the alley.

“An’ look,” he said. You dutifully looked but didn’t see whatever it was that he did. “See that scuff there? On the brick?” You squinted and did, in fact, see that one of the red bricks had a white scuff on it like someone had clipped it with a white car. Mutt gestured further down the alley. “It repeats,” Mutt said. You looked where he was pointing and realized that he was right. That exact same scuff appeared again a couple of meters down the alley. Huh.

Mutt grabbed your hand (your team had learned the importance of physically touching one another during missions very early on. If one of you disappeared, it was more likely that you’d end up in the same place if you were touching) and the two of you stepped into the alley.

The change was as immediate and jarring as your first trip through the void when Red’d snagged you to take you to Asgore to hear his job offer. One second, you were stepping into an alley and the next, you were standing in… Well, you actually weren’t sure where you were. It was dark, dark enough that you couldn’t even see Mutt inches from you. You could, however, feel the allimagic now. There was an alliumede somewhere nearby. You could feel the angry, hateful spirals of magic spinning around you. 

Beside you, Mutt took a sharp breath. “Sans’s here,” he said. “But… I think ‘e’s hurt. ‘is magic’s real weak.”

“We’ve got an alliumede, too,” you said. “I think it’s an intelligent one.”

Honestly, the sentient ones were the worst. If it was just a mindless beast of some kind, you didn’t feel so bad if you had to kill it. But a sentient one? Well, that just sucked. Even if it was an evil, soulless husk, you still didn’t like to kill. 

It’d never been your thing. That’s why Sans handled most of that aspect of your job. You felt awful letting him always be the bad guy, but he assured you that it didn’t bother him and alliumedes didn’t increase LV so there was no downside to him always killing them.

You suspected he was simply taking care of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him about it.

You were also pretty sure that if this thing hurt him, you wouldn’t have any trouble stepping into Sans’s normal job, though.

You sensed the incoming blast of allimagic in just enough time to throw up a shield over you and Mutt. The murky purplish magic broke apart on contact with your shield, sludging into puddles on the ground before dissipating. Immediately, the whole area lit up as Mutt’s hands gathered magic.

It was a dungeon, you realized. You’d stumbled into some sort of dungeon. And now you could see the alliumede several feet in front of you. It was tall, taller even than Jupiter, who was the tallest of the skeleton clan. The thing had to be 10 feet tall. Its pale head was huge and round, with black eyes that were easily the size of your own head. Purplish magic swirled around it as it readied another attack.

“That’s Sans’s magic,” Mutt growled beside you. You looked and realized that Mutt was right; this thing was surrounded by your boyfriend’s magic.

“It’s a vampire,” you said. “It steals magic.” You felt fear bubble up in your stomach. Monsters were made of magic; you were sure that a vampire could kill them easily and quickly. You’d heard of vampires kidnapping mages and sucking them dry over years and years, but they rarely actually died. Mages had magic, but they also had fleshy bodies that held their souls and magic, offering them some protection as their magic was sucked away. Monsters didn’t have that, though. And Sans had been here for hours… 

Instinctively, you raised a shield over Mutt. You weren’t about to have this thing rip him apart in front of you. “We have to stop it. Now.”

“How?” Mutt asked.

“Only way I know is to remove the head.” You didn’t allow yourself to shirk from it; this thing was currently draining Sans dry. Who knew how long he had? There wasn’t time to feel conflicted about killing a killer.

“Got it,” Mutt said. Then, he was behind the thing, one hand on its forehead and one on its throat. You shut your eyes quickly, focusing on keeping him shielded. You heard the inhuman shriek from the alliumede, then a ripping sound, followed by a wet thud. 

You resolutely decided not to throw up.

“‘S done,” Mutt said from beside you.

You opened your eyes and looked over at him. He was covered in a rainbow of splattered magic, all of it darkened like watercolor paints mixed with dark water. You shuddered at the sight; how many had this thing drained to get that assortment of magic? “We need to see if any monsters are missing when we get back,” you told him softly. “And mages, too.”

He nodded, then took your hand. “Let’s find our missin’ monster.”

It didn’t take you long to locate your wayward boyfriend, which was great because the place was becoming unstable without the alliumede to stabilize it. Sans was chained to a wall and unconscious when you found him. Mutt cut the chains with his sharp phalanges and caught his brother with barely a grunt. You grabbed his arm and felt the familiar tug of the void.

You staggered out into the alley to your earpiece squawking. "--mean there's nothing!" Edge was in the middle of screaming. 

Firm hands grabbed your arms and you thew up a shield around you, Mutt, and Sans, firmly shoving back whoever had ahold of you.

"Shit! Ow!" a familiar voice growled.

"Red! Report!" Edge squawked in your ear.

"We got 'em, boss. El's a little worked up." Red was on the ground in front of you, rubbing his tailbone. Mars was grinning beside him.

"She knocked Red on his ass," he said.

"We need to get Sans home," Mutt said behind you. His voice was a combination of urgent and panic that you rarely heard. Mars's eyes widened and you looked over your shoulder to see how pale your boyfriend was. All of the life was gone from his face and the magic that normally coursed through his joints was dulled away. Your heart dropped as Mars pulled you into the void.

***

Sans slept for nearly three days after you got him home. You waited, watching him sleep. That first night had been touch and go; all of the healers in the family got a workout keeping Sans’s magic from dipping below critical levels and taking his HP with it. It wasn’t the first time that you were guiltily grateful that his LV increased his HP. That wasn’t the case with the other sets of brothers. Sans speculated that it was because he wasn’t the Judge in his world so he was able to absorb LV and increase his stats like any other monster.

Now, you were so glad that he was a little bulkier than the Low HP Brotherhood. His considerable HP was in the single digits when you found him and, although the boys managed to mostly stabilize his HP somewhere in the low hundreds a couple of days ago, it kept dipping unexpectedly. Dips like that would’ve dusted Red, Sans, or Stretch (and maybe Mars? You weren’t clear on his HP situation since the whole… you, know, cannibalism issue). You knew that Sans taking on LV was a point of misery for him, but it kept him here with you and you couldn’t find it in yourself to completely regret it.

The door opened quietly behind you and Mutt walked in. He shoved a cup of coffee with a generous amount of hot chocolate added in into your hand, then sat on the floor beside you. The two of you hadn’t left the house since Sans’d come home. The others tried to make you sleep and eat, and you would take food if someone brought it to you in this room, but you refused to go anywhere. 

It was stupid, you knew, but you needed to see those dumb eyelights before you could even consider leaving. Luckily Red agreed to feed your cats for you.

Firelord Zuko, your huge black neediest cat, was going to be downright pissed when you finally went back home.

“You have a lot of nerve drinking that blasphemous sludge in my bedroom.” You nearly dropped the mug as you startled. Sans was looking at you with one barely-open socket, a little sliver of purple peeking out beneath. He chuckled at your surprise. “Don’t spill that. Chocolate is impossible to get out of the carpet. We’d have to sell the house.”

You dutifully set the mug on his bedside table, taking the time to shove a coaster under it. You pointedly ignored the pile of plates and trash on around it; it was evidence of your refusal to leave and you’d clean it up once you were sure he was going to be okay.

“‘Bout time you woke up,” Mutt said. He was leaning on the bed looking at his brother. “Thought you were gonna sleep forever, ya lazy asshole.”

“Ungrateful shit,” Sans muttered, but there was a purple dusting on both brothers’ faces. They were practically confessing that they cared about each other; the embarrassment alone might be fatal.

You, however, had no such qualms about showing emotion, so you leaned forward and kissed Sans gently. “How do you feel?” you asked.

“Mmm… What is the answer that gets me more kisses?”

You laughed. “An honest one. Maybe.”

“I feel like I got run over by a fleet of buses. How many different healings did I get? I can feel nearly everyone’s magic on me.” He shifted uncomfortably.

You caught his hand in yours. “A lot. You were in bad shape when we got to you, babe.”

He nodded slowly. “I should have called before I investigated.”

Probably, but, “It’s okay. You’re okay, we’re okay. Everyone’s okay.”

“But sure, feel free to make it up to us,” Mutt said. “I’d love a pony.”

“You do need to get Red a bigger computer actually,” you added.

“Bet the cats’d love a new cat tree.”

“Oh yeah! I’m going to have to make it up to them that I stayed here forever somehow. And I’ve also always wanted a pony.”

“We’ll take two ponies and a new computer for Red,” Mutt said.

“Don’t forget the cats.”

“An’ one of those jungle playhouses for the cats like tigers get on Animal Planet.”

“You’re both shits,” Sans said with affection.

“Aw, he loves us, Papy,” you cooed.

“I am going back to sleep!” Sans hissed as he pulled a pillow over his face.

“Go ahead,” you told him, leaning forward to give him another kiss. He leaned into it a bit and sighed. “We’ll be here when you wake up.” You grabbed your coffee and leaned back in your chair, ready to spend some more time waiting to see those dumb purple eyelights again.


	5. Paranoia/Conspiracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because Sans was being paranoid didn't mean that he wasn't also right... or couldn't accidentally make himself right by being a controlling asshole. Either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this turns out fluffy for these two, but there is a discussion about controlling relationships and an argument.

Just because he was paranoid didn’t mean he wasn’t right.

That was Sans’s motto for as long as he had been alive. Certainly he could see the worst in any situation, worry about absolutely anything, but that didn’t mean that his worries were _unfounded_. After all, he himself was the result of secret government attempts to create a super-soldier. If something nefarious could be happening, Sans was nearly certain that it was happening to someone somewhere. He simply wanted to make sure that it wasn’t happening _here_ to _his people_.

Which is why he did not fully understand why you were so angry at him tonight.

It all started when you texted him while he was at work. He’d been in the middle of walking the Embassy looking for breaches in security, a weekly pastime of his that he did on no particular schedule. No one was privy to when he would be checking, not even Edge, not even Asgore. It kept everyone on their toes.

The ding of his phone had given him pause just as he was finishing up his inspection of the upper floors, where the HR department was housed. He’d checked it curiously to find a message from you that you would be going out with some of your mage friends that evening and that you would see him the next day because it would be late when you finished carousing. You didn’t spend much time with your mage buddies so that in and of itself was noteworthy. You were still repairing many of those relationships after everything that occurred with your parents; you and your people were being reconciled, but it took time and you didn't often choose to spend large amounts of time with the mages. You also normally called him and discussed plans or told him when he left in the morning if you were staying over like you had the night before. Texting could mean that you were lying about something and did not want Sans and his legendary ability to suss out lies to figure it out.

The next curiosity was that you were going to a club downtown. You hated clubs, didn’t often drink or dance. He only knew of you going to one in the whole time he knew you, and that had been when you were feeling sad about your break up with your former datemate and wanted to “blow off some steam” last year. That, coupled with the fact that you hadn’t invited him, gave him pause about the whole situation.

He really was a good, trusting boyfriend who believed that you would never do anything untoward. You weren’t that kind of woman. But… Well, Sans had trusted a lot of people before and many of those people had failed him.

So he decided to just check your story.

He could have simply followed you, but that felt a little too heavy-handed. He didn’t want you to think he didn’t trust you, after all. He simply wanted to make sure that you were safe and where you said you would be. He considered simply using the “Find My Phone” option on your phone to track its location, but what if something happened and you dropped your phone? Perhaps you were kidnapped and lost your phone in the scuffle? No, simply tracking the phone would not be enough.

So he teleported into your place and slipped tracking devices into each of your purses. It was simply a safety precaution. While he was certain that the tracker would show you were going exactly where you said you were, those clubs were unsafe. Throngs of humans drinking and making poor decisions? Just because you couldn’t be much injured by intent didn’t mean that you couldn’t be roofied and taken out into an alley out back and… _and_ … 

And! You really didn't do much drinking at all! Did you really know your limits? Maybe you'd become inebriated and wouldn't sense the danger or you'd make a stupid decision or... _or_...

Or maybe you'd find someone else out there in those throngs of people. Maybe you'd finally figure out that he wasn't...

He hadn’t counted on you sensing the magic that Comic used to make the damn things and then ripping your purse apart to find it. He hadn’t expected you to call and yell at him for violating your privacy and accuse him of not trusting you. He certainly hadn’t expected you to tell him that you were changing where your group was going and not telling him where to because you “want a break from his mother henning for one fucking night! I’m four centuries old, damn it!” 

That’s how he found himself sitting on his couch, staring at the weird bird clock that you’d bought Mutt as a joke, waiting to see if you would let him know when you got home safely. He thought you would; no matter how mad you were, you understood his concerns. You understood that where he came from it just wasn’t safe. But every minute that ticked on the clock made him worry more and more, not just that you were in danger, but that you weren’t going to call him ever again, that perhaps he had finally driven you away as he had everyone else in his life.

He took a drink of the red wine from the wine glass he was swirling in his hand. He’d poured that glass almost as soon as he got off of the phone with you and sat and stared at it, worried that if he drank too much he wouldn’t be sober enough to help you if you needed it.

What if you _never_ let him help you again?

He buried his face in one gloved hand, worry and misery washing over him in equal measures. He didn’t want to lose you, not in any way, not from dangers in the outside world or dangers inside himself. And every minute that ticked by, the more he thought maybe he’d done just that.

He jumped at the sound of his front door unlocking. It took all of his control to not summon an attack and, instead, wait to see who was on the other side of the door. 

Then you walked in.

Your hair was mussed and your makeup was smudged from a night of drinking and dancing. You were wearing a short dress that made your eyes pop and sparkle. He supposed you’d started your evening in heels, but you were holding them in one hand now. Your purse, the sparkly one, was on your shoulder and he had to resist the urge to tell you to wear it across your body so no one could just grab it.

You looked beautiful. And angry.

You silently closed and locked the door, then walked over to the living room. You didn’t sit, choosing instead to drop your heels on the floor and stand with your arms crossed. You were taller than him like this, looking down at him angrily.

The silence stretched on for a minute, then two. 

Sans tried his best to think of the right thing to say. He knew you deserved an apology, but he just couldn’t find a way to explain that he wasn’t sorry for trying to keep you safe. How could someone from this world understand that, in his world, if you were out of his sight without a collar on, you were probably dead? And yes, he knew that this world was different, that collars didn’t mean anything, but that only made it worse. It meant there was _nothing_ he could do to protect you when you were away from him. 

And worse was that he knew that you didn’t really _need_ his protection. You were a powerful mage in your own right. You didn’t need his protection. You didn’t need _him_. And he wouldn’t be surprised if this was the day you fully realized that. So instead of trying to explain, he simply looked at you, determined to take in as much of you as he could for as long as he could. If tonight was the end, he wanted to have looked at you as much as possible during it.

Eventually, you let out a long sigh and walked around him to sit on the other end of the couch. You shifted so that you could take his hands in yours, peeling off the gloves that he wore to protect others  _ (you) _ from his sharpened phalanges. Once they were bare, you sat and traced the bones of his fingers for a few moments. He shut his eyes and let the sensation wash over him, trying to memorize how your skin felt against his bone.

Finally, you spoke. “Do you trust me?” you asked softly, and Sans startled at the question. He had expected you to say a lot of things, planned a lot of responses, but he hadn’t thought of  _ that _ .

“Of course I do,” he said, and he meant it. All of the worries about this being an odd occurrence, about how the only time you’d done this before was when you and your former datemate broke up, didn’t change that simple fact. There were two people in the world that he trusted fully, with every scarred bone in his body, and you were one of them.

You looked up sharply, your eyes burrowing into his eyelights. “Then why did you plant a tracker on me?”

Sans swallowed. “It’s… It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he began slowly. “It’s just… How can I? I mean! I know you are strong on your own--”

“Been alive 429 years, yep.”

“Yes, well. It got to me, I suppose. The worry. I saw your text and the idea frightened me.”

“What exactly frightened you?” you asked, your voice calm and even, hiding depths that Sans couldn’t know. He rubbed his skull trying to come up with the right words, but he drew a blank. You made a tsk-ing sound and tried again. “Were you worried I would cheat on you?”

“No!” Sans exclaimed immediately, because even though he was confused by you wanting to go out like that he _never_ believed you would do something like _that_. Leave him, certainly, but not _cheat_ on him.

“Did you think I was lying to you about where I was going or what I was doing?”

“No.” This time Sans was less emphatic. No, he didn’t think you would lie to him. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him. He just… he was so afraid.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Were you afraid of me getting hurt?”

Sans nodded meekly. “It was an oddity, you deciding to go out clubbing with the mages. The only time you’ve done that before was when you broke up with your previous datemate. I got that thought in my head, then I thought about your alcohol tolerance perhaps being low from lack of drinking and you being out with a group that I didn’t know would be looking out for you and I just… I wanted a way to know you were okay.”  _ And that we are okay, _ he didn’t add.

You nodded. “And that we're okay? You were worried that I was thinking about breaking up with you because I was going out with the mages?”

Sans sighed. He never gave you enough credit for how well you could read him. He knew that you weren’t gifted with mind-reading, but if you’d told him you were, he would have no trouble believing you. “I suppose that’s what started it, yes.”

“Well,” you said, “that’s a lot better than you thinking I would cheat on you. Sans, listen to me.” You paused until he was looking at you. “I get that you come from Murderville or whatever and that you need to have some reassurance that I’m okay. That’s not why I was mad. I was mad because I thought you didn’t believe me or you didn’t trust me to go out on my own. ‘Cause that isn’t gonna work, lover.” You continued holding onto his hand with a tight grip. “I’ve done the possessive boyfriend thing and I can’t do that with you. If you can’t trust me to go out with my friends and not break the promises I’ve made to you, then we can’t move forward here.”

Sans nodded. “I really do trust you. I just got scared.”

You scooted closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder. “Okay. Next time? Just try talking to me about it. And I’ll tell you when I get scared, too.” Sans nodded, then you continued. “We went out because it’s Julian’s birthday. We do this every year. Last year, it just happened to overlap with The Oliver Fiasco too.”

Sans felt an embarrassed flush on his face and was glad you weren’t looking at him. “I should have just asked,” he said.

“Next time you will. I trust you, too, Sans.” You tipped your head up and kissed his cheek. “I love you, but you can’t control me like that, okay? Neither of us will be happy.”

“I know.”

“But I don’t care if you put a tracker in my purses. Long as I know about it. If it’s there to reassure you that I’m safe and not murdered, that’s fine. I don’t have anything to hide.”

Sans felt an overwhelming gratefulness in his soul, one that he couldn’t properly express to you. Instead, he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. You tipped your head up and caught his mouth with yours. The kiss was gentle and sweet. After you pulled away, you grinned at him. “How many trackers do you have on Mutt?”

“On his bones or on his stuff?”

“Mmm… Both.”

“Ten.”

You laughed. It was the most beautiful sound that Sans knew and he didn’t want to ever lose it. He kissed you again and pushed aside those paranoid thoughts. Sure, lots of things can go wrong, but as long as he has you, it doesn’t matter what else happens.


	6. HAM Radio/Public Access Television

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your visit to the embassy doesn't go quite as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I have any warnings on this one?
> 
> I'm not a huge fan of how this one turned out, but I did kind of fall in love with the characters introduced here, so I'm sure we will run into them again.

“I just don’t get when this became a part of our jobs!” you groaned for the third time that afternoon.

Sans didn’t even bother to look up from his laptop. “Scanning radio waves is a valid way to search for alliumedes. You know that their magic often interferes with the electromagnetic spectrum.”

“No, I get that. But like… Doesn’t Edge have people to do this for us?”

Sans tutted. “ _ I _ am the person Edge has doing this for us. And _you_ are the one who said that you wanted to hang out with me at work today.”

“I didn’t know that it would be mind-numbingly boring!”

Sans chuckled. “I never implied that my day-to-day work was interesting. You are the one who decided that security work at the Embassy had to be ‘like, some Mission Impossible shit.’”

You harrumphed at him--and his  _ completely inaccurate _ impression of you--and crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair. Yeah, you’d asked if you could come to work with him today, presenting the idea as if you thought it would all be some kind of spy shit, but the truth was you were having trouble letting him out of your sight since the vampire incident. You knew that you were being ridiculous, but your subconscious demanded that Sans be within arms reach for a while.

Even snuggling close to him at night hadn’t stopped the nightmares. 

You suspected you weren’t fooling your too-observant Captain of the Royal Guard over there, but he hadn’t said anything about the nightmares or you following him around like a puppy. He’d even accompanied you to your house a couple of times so you could spend some time with the cats without having to be away from him.

You knew it was something that you and your therapist would have to deal with eventually. You couldn’t cling to Sans like a particularly needy sloth for the rest of your life, but he was taking it really well and… Well, you liked being around him. You sort of loved him or whatever.

Sans, for his part, allowed you to make yourself at home in his office. You had a little nest on the loveseat with your computer and a pile of books. You had an empty cup of coffee and a half-empty bottle of soda on a little side table. He’d even produced a blanket from somewhere and draped it over your shoulders before sitting at his own desk and diving into whatever boring shit the Head of Paranormal Security got up to.

Apparently, Tuesdays was “check all the radio waves” day.

Yay.

Your sulk was disrupted by a loud crackling noise from his laptop, followed by a computer voice rattling off a series of numbers. Sans blinked, then began scribbling on a Post-It note.

“The hell is that?” you asked. You wanted to know if it was worth climbing out of your nest for _before_ you got up.

He didn’t answer right away. He scribbled on the Post-It a bit more, muttering to himself under his breath. He listened to the message repeat a few times then tippity-tapped away on his keyboard. You waited for his answer; experience taught you that trying to rush a response would just get you snapped at. 

“Yes,” Sans said finally. He tapped the Post-It note with his pen. “Yes, that’s what I thought!”

“What is?”

He looked over at you like he just remembered you were there which, to be fair, he probably had. Sans bloody loved numbers and mysteries and now he had both. It was like nerd Superbowl over there. “Those numbers,” he said, gesturing to the laptop vaguely, “are coordinates. They lead perfectly to Snowdin. More specifically, they lead to Comic’s old house.” Sans stood and took off his suit coat. “This needs to be investigated,” he said, sweeping towards his office door.

Huh. Sounds like getting out of your nest was going to be worth it after all.

***

In the years since the barrier was broken, it had become a sort of tourist hot spot. People from all around the world came to see where the monsters emerged. There was even a commemorative trail that showed how monsters had originally moved down the mountain with a gift shop at the bottom. 

It was a whole hell of a lot easier to climb than it had been the night that Frisk drug you out here to find the thing, that’s for sure. 

Which was fortunate, because your boyfriend couldn’t be persuaded to teleport you up the trail. He told you that he “may need my magic reserves, my dear” and made you hoof it up a mountain with him. Fortunately, he’d produced sneakers for you from somewhere so that you didn’t have to try to do it in flip flops. 

The trail was the easiest part of the trip, honestly. Once inside, the magic lights that kept the place illuminated had dimmed since the monsters left. No one lived underground anymore and no one was allowed in, though you'd heard that teenagers often snuck up there to smoke, so the core wasn’t functioning either. Sans had to teleport you across the vent puzzles in Hotland and across a bridge to Snowdin. “There used to be a turtle,” Sans told you wistfully after you crossed. “It floated you across the gap.”

“It probably moved Aboveground,” you reasoned, but he didn’t answer.

Personally, you’d never been Underground before. Monsters had shown Frisk around, of course, but you declined after you helped find the barrier. You… Well, you had your reasons at the time, and they didn’t matter now. Now, you were worried about Sans. The further in you got, the quieter he became, and you knew it wasn’t only so that he could listen to the repeating message through his earpiece.

“Is it weird?” you finally asked him as you neared the old Temmie village.

“Hmm?”

“Being back Underground. Is it weird?”

Sans stumbled a bit and looked over at you, jaw slack. After a moment he shook his head. “No. Well,” he said, considering, “yes, but it’s more than that.” You waited in silence to see if he would keep talking. Talking could be hard for Sans, so he may not want to. You didn’t want to pry, especially not about the Underground. None of the skeletons liked to talk about those days, but Sans was one of the more tight-lipped (ha!) about it. To be fair, Sans hated to talk about anything that wasn’t fighting, math, or snark so it wasn’t surprising that it was hard to get any information about Swapfell out of him.

But it seemed that the was in a nostalgic mood because after a few minutes of walking in silence, he picked the thread back up. “It’s so very like home, but so very different. Of course, Mutt and I lived here for a month before we came Aboveground, but everything is just… flipped.” You made an encouraging noise, so he kept going. “Everything looks similar, but the vents were backward. And back home there wasn’t a Temmie village; that’s where the Flowey village was. I never even saw a Flowey here, but back home they were everywhere. They sprung up like,” he chuffed a laugh, “well, like weeds.”

He caught your hand as you walked through a weird swirling fog that you knew would clear when you reached the outskirts of Snowdin. You couldn’t see him, which made it easier to ask softly, “Do you wish you could go back?”

He was quiet for a long moment before he answered. Finally, “Sometimes.”

That didn’t hurt at all. Nope. He wanted to go back to  _ Murderville _ rather than stay here with you, that was fine, you could understand--

He pulled you against his side so that you could feel him even though you couldn’t see him. “I can hear you spiraling from here,” he said gently. “Sometimes I wish that I could go home and help my people. The children of Snowdin, the Dogi… So many depended on Papyrus and me to survive. I wish I could go back and get them, bring them here to safety.” 

You stepped out of the fog and he turned you so that he could hold your shoulders and look into your eyes. He waited to continue until you met his purple pips. “Things are better here,” he said firmly. He stroked your cheek gently, his eyes darting to the side as he gathered his courage. “Not just because of the consistent food or being on the surface, though that’s wonderful. But, my dear, you’re here.”

_ Your heart! _ You pulled him in for a kiss and tried to pour all of the love threatening to choke your soul. He pulled away first, to your surprise, but he rubbed at your arms and frowned. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine,” you tried, but he was already fishing his peacoat out of his inventory and draping it over your shoulders.

“It didn’t occur to me to bring warm clothes for you today,” he said like it was an apology.

“Well, thanks mom, but I am an adult. Besides, you’ll get cold.” You tried to give him back the coat but the look he gave you was brutally unimpressed and you ended up keeping it, sliding your arms into the sleeves and letting them hang down over your hands. 

He fidgeted with the coat for a minute before he was satisfied, then clacked a kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s go find this radio signal,” he said, then he leaned a little closer, “because I cannot wait to pull that coat off of you when we get done here.”

You started to give him a little playful shove, but you were interrupted by Sans shoving you away from him. Hard. You landed in a snowdrift and popped your head up in time to see an ax lodge in the ground where the two of you had been standing.  _ The hell…? _

You threw up a shield quicker than thought, focusing your energy on making sure Sans was covered. You strained your senses trying to feel allimagic here, but you didn’t feel any. Whoever was attacking you wasn’t an alliumede. You opened your mouth to tell Sans, but ended up letting out a shriek when something picked you up by the collar of Sans’s coat.

Something growled behind you. You threw up a shield over your head, forcing the thing’s arm back. It growled and dropped you, ripping Sans’s coat in the process. You spun, prepared to blast it, but froze at the sight.

It was a skeleton.

It was the biggest skeleton that you had ever seen, bigger than even Jupiter. His teeth were jagged and pointy like Edge’s but so much worse. They stuck out at odd angles, razor-sharp and ready to rip you apart. The bottom half of his jaw was just… gone. You wondered briefly if he could even talk. His eye lights were a muddy red, the color of dried blood. Well, 'eye lights' (plural) really wasn’t accurate because he only had one. The other one was completely destroyed, leaving a cavernous hole on one side of his skull. Honestly, you didn’t even understand how he was still standing. He looked like…

He looked like if Edge had grown up in the same universe as Jupiter and Mars, actually.

“Papyrus! Stop!” you cried, throwing up a shield to block the swing of a huge, rusty broadsword. The only answer you got was a guttural snarl. You staggered back at the force of the blow, but your shield held. You decided to try again. “Papyrus, please! I know you don’t know me yet, but I promise I’m not here to hurt you!” The skeleton paused and seemed to consider your words, but advanced again, drawing his sword up over his head.

“Papyrus!” another voice yelled. It was low and raspy as if it hadn’t been used in years. You blinked and a second skeleton was next to Papyrus, this one holding the ax that had just been thrown and you and Sans. It was clear who this was; even if you didn’t know that the skeletons tended to come in pairs, the skeleton before you looked so much like Red you thought you could easily confuse the two. Well, if Red was about five feet taller, anyway.

This version of Red wore a tattered black coat and gym shorts, just like Red did. Unlike Red, he had on a pair of huge round glasses with thick lenses. One side had some kind of magnifying glass on it like jewelers always wear in movies. It made his already-large maroon eye lights look even bigger. 

He caught the sword before Papyrus swung in, pushing it back. “They musta heard our SOS.” Papyrus grunted, but lowered the sword. Sans turned back to you and gave you a once over. “You’re a mage,” he said.

“Yes, but--”

“Whadya want? Lockin’ us down here wasn’t enough for ya? Are ya the reason e’ryone’s gone? Ya hear the SOS an’ come ta finish the job?” his already-raspy voice dropped into a growl.

“No! List--”

His eye glowed in his socket, just like you’d seen Red, Comic, Sans, and Mutt all do. You knew what was coming and you knew that your shield probably wouldn’t hold against blasters at full force. You swallowed and focused on channeling your magic.  You heard the whirring of a blaster, prepared for the searing heat as it tore through your shield, but the thing didn’t fire. You dared to crack an eye open, wondering what the hell was going on.

Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see Sans’s familiar blaster hovering in front of you trained on the other two skeletons. You weren’t sure what happened to him when he shoved you, but you should have known that he would break out the big guns if he had to.

“We need to all calm down,” he said lightly, “before someone gets hurt. I can explain what is going on here, but you need to point your weapon elsewhere.”

“The mage is with you?” the other Sans growled.

“Very much so, yes. Now, if you check me you will see that my name is also Sans. You have stumbled into a parallel universe and there are several Sans and Papyruses here. We all live on the surface.” He paused and looked at each monster. “Peacefully.”

You waited while the other Sans scanned your Sans. From the way his eyes narrowed, you knew that both Sans’s name and text indicated that he was telling the truth. “This your world?” he asked finally.

Your Sans shook his head. “No, my brother and I were stranded here the same as you.”

“Monsters’re on the surface? The kid broke the barrier here?”

Your heart broke at that. You knew Mars and Jupiter’s version of Frisk (and you, you guessed) hadn’t broken the barrier when their universe collapsed into this one. Monsters were starving to death in the Underground and eventually had to eat… Well, there was a reason Stretch referred to it as “Planet Cannibal.” And these two, somehow, looked  _ worse _ . They were Fell monsters in a timeline that went like that, you were sure of it.

“Not just any kid,” Sans said. “In this universe, this mage helped break the barrier.” He slipped a protective arm around your shoulders. 

“Come to the surface with us!” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Sans didn’t look at you, but you knew that he was wishing you’d let him do the talking. “There’s food and it’s safe. You can… You can have a family if you want to.”

Red Sans took a step towards you. You felt Sans’s arm tighten slightly on your shoulder and you knew that his magic was at the ready. The giant monster leaned forward until he was inches from your face, looking right into your eyes. You didn’t drop the shield, but you didn’t look away either. Eventually, he sighed. “Ya seem like ya believe what ya’re sayin’. But ya don’t know--”

“Believe me when I say much worse has been forgiven,” Sans said softly. “You can have a place with us if you like. Either way, it is not safe to stay down here with the core deactivated.”

Red Sans and Papyrus looked at one another. Papyrus began signing to his brother quickly. You wondered if your Sans understood what he was saying or if their version of hands was different than his. A few minutes of signing back and forth and they both turned to face you. “We don’ have much choice,” Red Sans said. “Been here two weeks an’ ate all the food we can get ta. I didn’t… do all I did ta keep my bro alive so he could starve down ‘ere.” 

“Wonderful!” Sans said. “I can teleport us to the barrier, and from there I will take you to the Embassy to begin getting you settled. Welcome, by the way.”

Your Sans turned his back to them (a power play if you ever saw one) and began making his way back towards Waterfall. Behind you, you heard the shambling of the two gigantic monsters. Red Sans stepped up beside you and leaned down so he was next to your ear. “I don’ know how ya got ‘im fooled, mage, but I’m keepin’ my socket on ya. Ya try anythin’ with my bro and they’ll never find ya body. Got it?” He said it quietly enough that you were pretty confident that your Sans didn’t hear him.

You looked up at him and smiled. “Welcome to the family. I promise that I won’t be ‘tryin’ anythin’” with your bro. He’s one of us now. And so are you.” Without another word, you sped up to catch up with your Sans. You snagged his hand and laced your fingers together. He was talking furtively to someone on his phone, probably Edge, explaining that the mysterious radio signal was an SOS that led you to two new family members.

Papyrus was going to be thrilled.

You glanced over your shoulder at the brothers and recognized the fear in their eye lights. Soon, there would be new nicknames to discuss, housing to be sorted out, clothing to be bought, and medical assistance to offer. After that, there would be holiday dinners, board games, and movie nights. But right now, there was another escape from the Underground and new faces to see the sun.

Maybe you’d join Check The Radio Waves Tuesday next week too. You know, just in case.


	7. Something's Wrong with the Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Mutt's bedmates want to fight him, but this is the first time they've taken it so literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This one has a description of a panic attack and some light sexy times (it doesn't get far)**

The monster wing of the hospital really was nice for a hospital, Mutt guessed. There weren’t that many monsters and they didn’t get sick all that often, so the rooms they did have tended to be cushy and nice, with comfortable furniture and wispy paintings by local artists on the walls. He had a few in there somewhere, actually. He'd never actually been in any other hospital, so he couldn't really make much of a comparison. It's not like there were hospitals back in Swapfell.

Mutt didn’t hate the hospital like the rest of Team Lazy Skellies, but Sans did. Mutt was sturdy, born with high HP. His bro wasn’t, but he’d sure as hell made up for it by fightin’ his way up through the ranks in the hell that was their Underground. He knew enough about Sans’s aversion to hospitals to know it involved that he hated getting sick as a kid and something more secret-y than that. He hadn’t figured that one out yet. Probably he’d have to get it as Sans’s deathbed confession or somethin’, and even then Sans’d probably tell ‘im everything was fine.

Right now, Sans’s body language told Mutt that he was anything but fine. He was stiff and his mouth was puckered into a grimace. He looked like he’d just eaten a rotten lemon. He kept his eyes straight forward, even though you were next to ‘im and clearly tryin’ to distract him from the hospital-ness of all of it.

Before you guys shortcutted over here, Mutt suggested that the two of you go and get intel while Sans wait at the house, but he’d bristled and had to prove he was the Strongest And Least Scared or whatever.

Idiot was gonna have nightmares for a month after this.

The room you came to visit was closed, so Sans rapt on the glass door gently. A soft, “Come in” chirped out and the three of you entered the room. The bed was comically large for the tiny monster in it: a yellow bird the size of a chihuahua, its soul glowing under the sheet from the medicine bein’ pumped into it. Beside the bird was a larger cat monster, Decklan, who looked even worse than the bird did. 

“Hello, Bird. Decklan.” Sans nodded to each of them and did his best to offer a smile. Anyone who didn’t know ‘im would probably buy it. 

“Thank you for coming,” Decklan said, their voice low and rumbly.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Sans asked politely.

“Love?” Decklan said to Bird. Bird pushed himself up in the bed and nodded.

“I just finished my route. Everything was fine, then suddenly I felt awful, weak like. I passed out and woke up here.”

Decklan rubbed a paw over Bird’s forehead. “He’s lucky the dogs went Underground. He mighta been layin’ there for stars knows how long.”

“You don’t remember anything else?” Sans asked. Bird shook his head. “I’m sorry to ask, then, but what makes you think that you need our services?”

“His magic is… Well, it’s wrong,” Decklan said.

“I’m sorry… Wrong? Wrong how?”

“You’re going to have to show them, love,” Decklan said softly.

Bird fluffed up a little bit, maybe like he was embarrassed, and then used his wings to push the blanket down. It revealed his soul. Mutt took a second to catch his breath; showin’ someone your soul was kinda like stripping in front of them and, well… He’d been... familiar... with Bird in his world.

It did look weird, though. There was a black splotch at the center like someone dropped black ink in a glass of water. Mutt leaned forward a bit to try to get a better view, but Decklan shot him a death glare. He slunked back a bit and tried not to stare after that.

You seemed to have no such concerns, though. You leaned forward and held your hand over the spot. Decklan tensed but didn’t move to stop you. You squeezed your eyes shut like you did sometimes when you were concentrating. Eventually, you leaned back. “There’s definitely some weird allimagic coming off of it,” you declared. 

“Do you know what it is?” Decklan asked.

“Not yet,” you admitted. “But we’re gonna figure it out, okay?”

Mutt didn’t miss the moisture that formed behind Decklan’s closed eyelids or the way Bird began breathing harder. That wasn’t the answer they wanted. 

Mutt trailed behind you and Sans as you left the hospital. Sans was going on about what it might be and next steps and how to investigate, but Mutt wasn’t listenin’. His phone dinged as he stepped into the elevator and he grinned to see that Ave sent him a text. 

It’d been a minute since Mutt had a nice booty call.

“Hey, I’mma take off,” he said when your group reached the parking lot. Sans glared at him, his eye lights flicking from the phone in Mutt’s hand and back up to the sly grin on Mutt’s face. He sighed loudly.

“Fine, fine. But keep your phone on. And no drinking! You’re on call,” Sans said. 

Mutt gave him a salute, then spun into a shortcut. He’d never called ‘em shortcuts before coming to this ‘verse; it was teleporting and that’s what he and Sans called it. But he had to admit that callin’ it taking a shortcut sounded pretty cool, so he’d picked up the lingo from the other teleporters. Sans hated it, but Sans hated pretty much everything, so that wasn’t unusual.

He stepped out of the shortcut outside of one of the houses in Old New Home. They were smaller and less put together than the homes in New New Home. They’d been hastily constructed when monsters first staggered down the mountain; most folks’d taken Asgore’s offer to get a brand-spankin’ new house once the amnesty agreement came through, but not everyone. Apparently, Ave was one of the few who’d chosen to stay.

Mutt didn’t know why and he didn’t especially care.

He tapped on the now-familiar door and it swung open to reveal a bird monster. She was a full head shorter than Mutt with red feathers and a bushy tail. She grinned up at him and blinked slowly… Bedroom eyes if Mutt’d ever seen ‘em. And boy had he seen ‘em.

“Hey, doll,” he drawled, “can I come in?”

“Sure thing, stud,” she said. She stepped aside to let him into the small living room. It was sparsely decorated, with a small couch and a television set. There weren’t really any pictures on the wall or knick-knacks around. Of course, Mutt wasn’t in much of a position to care, because the instant the door was closed behind him, Ave was pushing him up against the door and kissing him passionately.

He steered her towards the couch and pushed her down so he could straddle her. She ground her knee (uh… bird knee? Do birds have knees? Well, whatever) against Mutt’s pelvis, forcing him to bite back a moan. He began nibbling down her neck, trying not to choke on feathers. He’d been with a lot of partners and most of them were fleshy; he got used to being careful about getting fur or feathers in his mouth. Nothing sours the mood quite like choking on your partner.

“Heard you went to the hospital today,” Ave gasped. Her wings were somehow as clever as fingers, working the cartilage in Mutt’s spine.

“Huh? Yeah, had to work,” he grunted back.

“What kind of work?”

“Normal work.”

Mutt tried to get things back on track by unbuttoning her shirt, but Ave seemed really bent on talking just now. _Great_.

“Come on,” she whined. “You can tell me.”

Mutt leaned back from her a bit so that he could look into her dark eyes. “No offense, doll, but I didn’t really come here to talk about work.”

Ave huffed. “I was just curious.”

“Come on, babe,” Mutt purred. “Work wasn’t interestin’ at all today. You really wanna talk about it when we could be havin’ a whole lot more fun?”

“Mmm,” Ave groaned as Mutt licked along her clavicle.

“Just one more thing,” she said.

Growing up in Swapfell taught Mutt how to stay alert to your surroundings at all times. He’d been caught in bed many a time and had to go from fucking to fucking shit up more than once. He hated it, but he could do it, just like everything else about living in that gods-forsaken hell hole. He knew some of the other skeletons wished they could go home, but not him. He hated that place, hated the fighting, hated worrying that Sans wouldn't come home from work every day. Good fuckin' riddance, far as he was concerned.

Luckily the years in this snowflake of a ‘verse hadn’t dampened his awareness at all. Those instincts were the only thing that saved him from the massive attack that Ave tried to level at his head. He managed to roll off the couch and onto the floor, missing an attack with enough intent to take off his head by inches. It blew a hole the size of a cow in the ceiling.

“Hold still!” Ave said, leveling another blast at Mutt.

Mutt rolled out of the way and scrambled into the kitchen to duck behind the counter. “What the fuck, Ave?” he gasped from his vantage point.

Ave laughed, a high-pitched and horrible sound. She fired a blast that was mostly absorbed by the counter Mutt was hidden behind. He could just shortcut out, but he had no idea what set her off. Instead, he fumbled his phone and opened the app that Stretch installed on all their phones. Apparently, it was able to sense the electromagnetic shifts caused by allimagic. Stretch liked to theorize that your abilities worked in a similar way, though any experiments he came up with would’ve been unethical to try on Sans's favorite human. Well, and Mutt's favorite human, too, but that was beside the point.

The app opened and his screen was immediately assailed with a huge red splotch right where Ave was. Alligmagic, full of Intent.  _ The fuck…? _ Another blast of magic threatened his hiding spot while he wracked his brain. Had you met Ave? Could she be an alliumede? He’d never know, he couldn’t sense the damn things, that’s why Asgore hired ya to begin with. 

He pulled up his contacts and hit the second one. It rang twice before he heard your voice. “Mutt?” you sounded like you were out of breath and maybe a touch frantic. “Are you okay?” 

“Well, actually--” he was cut off by another blast of magic and a melted piece of countertop dropped onto the floor next to him. He scurried a little further over, hoping that she didn’t notice his movement.

“What was that?” you asked emphatically.

“Do ya know Ave?” he asked.

“Ave? Is that a bird monster, the one that works at Muffet’s?”

Mutt didn’t know where Ave worked, but she was a bird monster so, “Yeah.”

“Shit! You need to get out of there!”

“Yeah things have gotten a lil… melty,” he said.

“There’s something wrong with the birds! They’ve all gone crazy! Bird attacked Decklan and Red had to detain two of his security guards. You need to get outta there! Now!”

“No can do,” he said. You sputtered but he talked over you. “‘m not gonna leave ‘er like this. She’ll hurt somebody.”

“She’ll hurt  _ you _ , you moron!”

Mutt hung up the phone and peeked around the corner of the counter. Ave was suspiciously quiet. Turned out that peeking was a bad call; Ave shot another burst where his head poked out. Luckily he pulled himself back behind the counter quickly.

“Ave,” he called, “this ain’t you! You’re, uh, infected! Some kinda soul thing? It’s affectin’ all the bird monsters!”

She cackled again. “Don’t lie to me, Mutt, you’re not as good at it as you think.”

“Don’t say things ya don’t mean, darlin’.” Mutt took a breath, then teleported directly behind where Ave was standing. Years of living in Swapfell made it easy to use blue magic to catch her wings behind her back and push her against the wall. 

She squawked (and Mutt hated himself for  _ that _ mental pun) and tried to shove him off of her. Even with her weird strength from her allimagic, Mutt was far stronger than her. There weren’t many things that he was grateful for about growing up in Swapfell (or about his “mother” for that matter), but if he had to say somethin’ about 'em at the Thanksgiving table, he would definitely mention his abnormal strength. It’d saved his bones more than once. 

“‘Kay, doll, we’re goin’ downtown ‘til we get ya sorted,” Mutt said. Ave screeched again as he pulled her into the void. 

Mutt had tromped his way through the void dozens of times a day since he was a babybones and he’d done it in all sorts of states. More than once he’d shortcutted drunk or high, or drunk AND high. He’d shortcutted injured, close to dustin’. He’d carried unconscious friends and dead bodies. He’d pulled enemies into a shortcut to drop them somewhere out of the way. He’d even shortcutted near alliumedes, where their allimagic could potentially affect him. Plus, there was that time he’d shortcutted while under mind control. 

Until that moment, Mutt would’ve said he knew his way around the void. He didn’t think he could be surprised by anything that happened to him there.

But he was wrong.

He felt the tendrils of the void, cold fingers tugging at him like always. He could feel the Embassy’s holding cells, which was his destination, too. His feet were nearly scraping the cell’s tile when he was suddenly jerked back like he had a bungee cord attached to his back. The normally friendly, gentle fingers of the void shifted from the familiar clasp of an old pal to the iron-fisted grip of a tyrant. It felt like he’d been sucked into space, his non-existent lungs unable to draw air just like in Edge’s dumb PowerPoint he’d made them listen to before the space mission. For a second he wondered if this was how you felt when your space helmet broke. You didn’t talk about it and, if it felt like this, Mutt sort of got why. His chest felt like it was on fire and he fumbled his grip on Ave.

She wasn’t struggling against him anymore and he spared a thought to wonder if she was ok. He didn’t, like,  _ love  _ her or anything, didn’t even really know her, but it’s not like he wanted her to  _ die in the void _ either.

He also didn’t want to die in the void, so he tried to summon a shortcut to literally anywhere. His soul whined and he would’ve gasped if he could. He’d felt that feeling only a few times in his life. Sometimes the supply lines to Snowdin ran thin and he couldn’t replenish his magic, forcing him to run on empty for weeks at a time. Worse than that was the time the queen put that collar on him… 

Yeah, probably best not to think about that right now.

He didn’t have any magic is what he was sayin’. He couldn’t teleport anywhere, which meant he couldn’t get out of the void.

Well  _ shit _ .

Edge’s PowerPoint led Mutt to believe that he would only be conscious for 10-15 seconds without oxygen, followed by dustin’ after three minutes. ‘Course, there weren’t any experiments with monsters in space so his numbers were all based on humans. And apparently, those numbers low-balled when it came to monsters; after nearly three minutes Mutt didn’t feel like he was about to dust or even pass out. Not to say he was comfortable, no, the void was hella cold and his chest felt like it was being crushed the whole time, but he certainly wasn't dead.

Five minutes in, Mutt thought to worry that he might be stuck. It wasn’t a concern before that ‘cause, well, he figured he’d die before he was had to face the consequences of being trapped in the void. At this point, it seemed like maybe dying wasn’t on the table anymore and he began to wonder how long he could live in the void before he dusted.

He knew from experience that monsters could go without food for months. The record in Swapfell’d been four months in one of the cages outside the castle. Poor guy’s limbs began dustin’ before he did. Mutt still heard those screams in his nightmares.

He realized he was shiverin’ and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the cold of the void.

He couldn’t breathe, so it took him a few minutes to realize he was having a panic attack. He wouldn’t of known at all except his thoughts were racing too fast for him to hold onto them. Only one managed to get lodged in his skull, and it was the screams of that monster. He was never gonna see you again, the skeleton crew, oh gods, Sans… The last thing he said to Sans was to tell ‘im he was goin’ to a booty call! When had Mutt last told Sans he loved ‘im? He couldn’t remember…

Mutt thought he might pass out from the sheer panic thundering in his soul, which is why he thought he was hallucinating when a bright crack of light appeared in front of him. He didn’t bother to try to back away; he didn’t have anything to push off of and, even if he did, he didn’t have anywhere to go. ‘Sides, maybe if it wasn’t a hallucination it’d kill him quickly.

His sockets widened when something burst through the crack. The bright light overwhelmed him and for a moment he could only see a silhouette. It seemed to be alive? Had arms and legs at least. It was pretty bulky, putting to an end Mutt’s hope that maybe one of the teleporters was coming for him. 

The figure twisted around and began drifting towards him. It grabbed ahold of Ave, who’d drifted away from him during his panic. “Get your hands off ‘er!” he tried to yell, but it only came out as a garbled mess.

The figure ignored him and raised their hand like they were going to hit her. Mutt watched in horror as Ave’s soul rose from her chest, at first that it was happening at all, then at how the thing looked. Monster souls are supposed to be silvery. They can turn red if you take on LV--Mutt knew his own soul was probably webbed in red just from growing up in Swapfell; he assumed Edge and Sans’s souls looked very much the same. He’d even seen Swapfell queen’s soul; she had the most LV of anyone he’d ever met. Her soul was deep crimson, darker even than the eye lights the new skeletons that you and Sans brought home, the darkest soul that he’d ever, ever seen. 

Until now.

Ave’s soul was completely  _ black _ , nearly as black as the void itself. The bird monster’s back arched as the figure drew the soul out and held a hand under it. The figure’s other hand was in a fist, raised above the soul.

Mutt tried to scream as the hand crashed down on her soul. A brilliant white light shot from the center of the soul where the hand made contact. The blackness shot away from the light like oil repelled by water. A fine black mist, barely visible against the overwhelming darkness of the void, poured out, Ave’s feet.  The mist seemed to gather in a weird clump a few feet below the two figures. It shifted and began snaking back towards Ave. The figure twisted again and pulled Ave against them. They threw something at the mist and a second bright light exploded from it. Mutt was blinded again, then felt hands on him. Instinctively, he tried to fight. He managed to shove them off, propelling himself backward.

His brain felt like it was swimming; the panic attack hadn’t ended, of course; it was getting worse. The figure made some garbled noises at him, grabbing his arms again and shaking him. He tried to struggle again and the figure slapped him in the face. 

Mutt froze dumbly. They  _ smacked _ him? But without any intent? The hell…?

More garbled speech, and the figure grabbed him again. He felt himself get dragged along, then the blinding light again…

And he was laying on something hard, coughing up magic. He tried to fight off the hands holding onto him. There was noise all around, but he couldn’t understand any of it. The lights were too bright, the sounds too loud, the ground too hard. 

He wanted to shortcut to safety, but the thought of the void stopped him.

“Papyrus!” 

His name cut through the fog and he snapped his head up. Sans was kneeling in front of him, his purple eye lights full of concern. “Sans?” Mutt croaked.

Sans leaned back on his heels and smiled. “There you are. You’re safe now, brother.”

“Safe?” Mutt croaked. He looked around and realized that he was on the floor of Ave’s living room. You were kneeling a bit behind Sans wearing your spacesuit. You’d ripped the helmet off and were leaned over fiddling with something. “Sans?” Mutt asked again, uncomprehending.

“I’m here. We’re here.”

_ We…?  _ Mutt looked around and saw what Sans meant. You were there, of course, looking haggard and sweaty but otherwise unhurt. Edge and Stretch stood a respectful distance back and Red and Comic stood on Sans’s other side. All of the members of his team and security, he realized blandly.

“--seemed to work,” you were saying. “The parasite left her. Her soul looks good, but we should get her to the hospital ASAP.”

“I’ll take ‘er,” Comic said, kneeling beside you.

“Wait!” Mutt croaked. Comic obliged, his hand hovering over Ave’s wing. Mutt crawled past Sans so that he could see her. She was unconscious and her feathers were ruffled, but she looked otherwise okay.

“She’s gonna be okay,” you said gently. “All of the others were fine once we got the parasite out. But we need to let Comic take her to the hospital, okay?”

Mutt felt like his mouth was full of glue, so he nodded instead of answering. Comic waited until Mutt pulled his hands back, then he disappeared with Ave. Sans leaned forward and grabbed Mutt’s arm. “Your turn,” he said.

Mutt yelped and tried to shove his brother off of him. He didn’t know where Sans was trying to take him, but he did know that he  _ was not _ teleporting there. He thought he may actually die if he felt those icy tendrils of the void again. That inky blackness, the crushing, no air, he can’t breathe, he can’t… He can’t…

“You’re okay,” Sans said soothingly. “I will drive you. We won’t teleport.”

“Where?” Mutt managed.

“The hospital.” Mutt stiffened, but Sans kept talking. “We need to get you checked over, Mutt. You… You were in there for a long time and we have no way of knowing how the void will affect--”

“How long?”

Sans grew quiet and averted his eye lights. “Let’s just get you checked out, then we can--”

“How. Long.”

Edge leaned down and put a hand on Mutt’s shoulder. “Nearly a month,” he said, and his face was soft, softer than any look that Mutt had ever seen on the Fell monster’s face.

“How?” Mutt asked. It wasn’t enough to explain everything he wanted to know: how could he have been gone that long, how did he survive, how did they find him…

“The birds were infected by an alliumede that functions like a parasite,” Sans said. “We figured out that they wanted to get to the void and how to get them out of the birds’ souls. It was a…” Sans paused and Mutt groaned inwardly at the upcoming pun, “... shot in the dark, really, but we thought you may have tried to teleport Ave and got stuck there.”

“I’m so sorry it took us so long,” you said softly. Mutt looked over at you and a realization that should’ve been very obvious already struck him.  _ You _ were the figure in the void. The spacesuit made you bulkier and the cord around your waist must be how they drug the three of you back.

When Mutt didn’t say anything, you pulled him into a hug and buried your face in his shoulder. He couldn’t tell you that he didn’t blame you, that it hadn’t seemed that long to him, that he was ok. He couldn’t find his voice to say any of that. But as he reached out an arm and drug Sans into the hug, he hoped you knew. 

He was going to be ok. You all were. He was home.


	8. Things in Jars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans left his lunch at home, so you go on a perfectly normal adventure to the Embassy where nothing weird happens. Not at all.

You knew that Alphys was a kind-hearted monster who would never hurt a fly. You were sure of that. But her office was the creepiest place you’d ever been, hands down, and you had been a “paranormal investigator” for nearly four centuries. 

Most of the office was pretty tame; lots of papers with scientific jargon scribbled around, various pairs of safety glasses, empty coffee cups, even the odd anime figurine. No, the creepiness came in the form of an innocuous-looking door at the back of the office. If you managed to get down to the labs in the Embassy (which required special security clearance) and into Alphys’s office (which required a special code), then you would still only be able to open that door if you knew a twelve-digit code that rotated daily. Oh, and to reveal the keypad to enter the code, you had to go through a biometric scan, a voice lock, and summon your soul for the thing to scan. 

That sounds like a joke, but it really isn’t.

As far as you knew, only like five people had ever seen what was behind the door: Asgore (obviously), Edge, Comic (as this world’s judge), Alphys, maybe Undyne, and your Sans. No one else even knew there was a weird secret door to look behind, furthermore what was hidden therein.

You were happily with the majority in your ignorance of the Super Secret Door until Sans forgot his lunch at home one Friday. You stayed over at his house the night before and wandered down the stairs at the early hour of 10 a.m., your heart set on some coffee and perhaps some muffins that Edge sent over to keep Mutt fed. The new Sans and Papyrus that you’d found in Snowdin were in a high-security area of the hospital and weren’t allowed many visitors, so Sans took it upon himself to spend as much time as possible with them, helping to get them acclimated. You’d gone with him a few times, but they were still jumpy around mages so you hadn’t been in a few weeks. Anyway, between work and the hospital, Sans really didn’t have as much time for baking as he used to, so the other culinary skeletons were keeping Mutt (and by proxy, you) well-fed. If you opened the freezer, you knew you’d find several casseroles labeled in Blue’s flowy handwriting. The fridge was stocked with soups from Papyrus and breakfast was sponsored by Edge and the three chickens that he and Stretch kept as pets. Jupiter hadn’t sent anything over, but you knew that some of the skeletons were still a little weird about eating his cooking.

Fair enough, but it’s been years. It’s not like he’s  _ still _ cooking humans.

When you saw the lunchbox on the table, you decided to run it down to the Embassy for Sans. Sure, he could order out or something, but if he took the time to pack a lunch, he probably would like to eat it. Plus, you wanted to spend some time at your house, so you were headed out of New New Home anyway. 

Before you left, you peeked into Mutt’s room. He was curled up in the bean bag at the end of his bed with the fluffy blanket you got him last Gyftmas nestled around him. You smiled at how comfy he looked, then quietly pulled the door shut. His sleep schedule was still shot to hell from being in the void for so long, so if he was asleep it was best not to interrupt. Instead, you ignored your fancier coat that you wore for date night in favor of pulling on one of Sans’s sweatshirts and made your way to the front door. Once in the driveway, you groaned as you realized you hadn’t driven to Sans’s house. Your Jeep was still parked at home; he’d picked you up for Thursday Date Night and you didn’t even think about needing your Jeep for the next day. 

Well, there was nothing for it. At least Ebbott had a lovely public transport system, with a bus stop right outside the gate to New New Home. You decided to skip the little shuttle bus that would have taken you straight to the front gate; it was an unusually warm day in October and you wanted to cherish the nice weather while you could. Plus, Sans’s house was only a few blocks from the gate.

You’d only been walking about a minute when you heard a car behind you. It slowed as it approached so you glanced over your shoulder. Yeah, it was unlikely that anyone was going to kidnap you in New New Home, but shit happens. You felt your magic coil in your chest when you waited to see who was slowing down behind you.

You needn’t have worried. A bright red mustang convertible pulled up next to you. In the driver’s seat was a huge skeleton in an orange sweater wearing braces and with little glasses taped to the side of his head. “Friend Ellie!” he boomed. “Where are you walking to today?”

“Hey Jupiter! I’m headed to the gate to catch the bus.”

Jupiter frowned at you. “Why is that?”

You waved Sans’s lunchbox at him. “Sans left his lunchbox at home and I thought I’d take it to him.” 

Jupiter visibly brightened at that. “I am headed to the Embassy to talk to Alphys about treatment options for New Me’s soul! I would be honored to give you a ride!”

You grinned. You weren’t as close to Jupiter as you were to some of the other skeletons, but you always enjoyed his company. To be fair, you probably would’ve ridden with Jerry if it meant not taking the bus, but in this case you were also pretty jazzed to hang out with your ride. “I’d love that! Thanks Jupe!” With that, you climbed into the front seat.

“So we still haven’t nicknamed the new skeletons?” you asked conversationally as Jupiter’s car crept slowly along the streets of New New Home. He waved at several of the monster kids biking around the street and they all waved back with enthusiasm.

“No,” Jupiter said ruefully. “I’m afraid they are still not… comfortable with there being other thems.” 

“That’s fair,” you said. “I’m not sure how I would feel if there were other me’s running around.”

Jupiter was quiet for a moment before he said, “Actually, I don’t mind having other me’s. It is interesting to see how things could have been if we lived elsewhere.” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I know that you are Black’s datemate, but I don’t want you to tell him.”

That gave you pause. You really didn’t keep secrets from Sans. “Is it something that’s going to affect him?” you asked.

Jupiter thought for a moment, then said, “I cannot think of how it would. I only worry that it would affect how the others see me if they knew.”

“Oh. Well, then, I don’t see any reason that I would need to tell him.”

You thought that might be the wrong answer for a few minutes, but eventually, Jupiter spoke again. “Black says that the new skeletons come from a universe… like mine.”

“You mean one where they had to eat humans?” You refused to shrink from it. It was just their reality. Jupiter and Mars’s world was starving. You’d lived through enough of human history to know that they would eat one another if they were starving; you couldn’t imagine how to hold it against monsters for doing the same thing, especially when it was a human’s fault they were in that situation.

“Yes,” Jupiter said tentatively. “I thought… I thought our universe was the only one like that. Sans said that there were infinite possibilities and we couldn’t be the only skeleton brothers that had to… do that… but no others were here and I felt… I wondered why they could survive without doing that and we couldn’t.”

“Jupe…”

“But! Those skeletons had to do that too! Maybe… Maybe we weren’t the only ones that couldn’t think of another way to survive. Maybe… Maybe we aren’t the only bad monsters.” The last was spoken so softly that you strained to hear him over the wind.

You thought your heart might actually break at those words. “Jupe, I think that any of them would have done the same thing in your place. Actually,” you said, “I  _ know _ they would have. And if you hadn’t been in those circumstances, you wouldn’t have done it either. You’re  _ not _ bad monsters, Papyrus. I’ve known bad people and you just aren’t one of them. You’re good.”

Jupiter quickly wiped at his sockets and you thought he might be crying a little. You politely took an interest in the scenery outside your window. After a few minutes of sniffles, Jupiter spoke again, “Thank you. Your words are very kind.”

"They’re true,” you countered as Jupiter pulled his car into the parking lot of the Embassy. Jupiter didn’t respond to that, but he did hop out and open your door very enthusiastically. You figured that was another thank you and you smiled at him warmly.

“Thank you for the ride,” you told him.

“You are welcome!”

The two of you walked in together. The security guard showed absolutely no interest in you whatsoever, instead keeping his eyes on the crossword he was working. After you swiped your card, he asked, “You here to see Black?”

“Yeah?” you said.

“He’s down in the labs. He’s doing his security checks for the week.”

“Oh. Thanks!”

“I’m headed down to the labs,” Jupiter said. “I will take her with me!”

The security guard nodded without even looking up, and the two of you shuffled through the lobby to the elevator. You had enough clearance to get down to the labs; when Red gave it to you, he told you it was in case you needed “ta dissect an alien, ya know, Independence Day style”. 

Needless to say, you’d never used your security clearance before.

Jupiter swiped his card and the two of you crowded into the sleek elevators at the back of the lobby. Jupiter scanned his hand and a keypad popped out. You politely looked away as he entered his 16-digit security code.

You actually weren’t sure why Jupiter had lab clearance; as far as you knew, Mars was the science-y brother and he didn’t come down to the Embassy  _ ever _ as far as you knew. It seemed weird to ask, though, so you kept your mouth shut and enjoyed the ride. It was several seconds long; you knew that the lab was pretty deep underground as a security precaution, but you had no idea how deep it actually was. You’d wondered vaguely if the teleporters could get down to it in one teleport, but Red’d waved off the question, with a simple, “Pointless ta try it.” Sans hadn’t answered either, so you figured there was security preventing it. 

The doors opened into a sleek lab full of bright fluorescent lights, tile floors, and stainless steel tables. Doors broke off the main hallway, each of them outfitted with a keypad and scanner. Sans told you that the scientists were watched very closely with strict safety protocols, with Alphys overseeing the entire operation. Comic had commented that Sans, Red, and Edge all oversaw her too and the other skeletons nodded grimly, so you figured there was a story there you didn’t know and, frankly, you didn’t think you wanted to. You dealt with enough weird shit; you didn’t need anymore, thanks. Plus, the lab gave off a “see too much and get dumped off the docks” kind of vibe to it and you would hate for any of your skeletons to have to murder you to keep you quiet.

“I do not see Sans,” Jupiter said, and you glanced up at him. The skeleton was the tallest of them all, topping out at well over seven feet. Or, well, he had been until you found the new skeletons in Snowdin.  _ That _ Papyrus was huge, even compared to Jupiter. Despite his ridiculous height, the skeleton was able to stand to his full height, though; the halls were constructed with the largest of monsters in mind. After all, the king wasn’t a small daisy or anything.

You looked around and confirmed that Jupiter was correct. Sans wasn’t immediately visible to you in the long, sterile hallway. You began to pull out your phone to call him, but giving yourself a quick pat-down revealed that your phone wasn’t with you. You scrubbed your hand down your face. “I don’t have my phone,” you groaned to Jupiter. He looked down at you in concern. “I must’ve left it in my coat pocket.” Of course you had. You’d peeled the coat off rather quickly last night, hastily dropping it on the floor after Sans teleported you to his bedroom. You had been pretty... distracted... the rest of the night until you fell asleep in his arms, his weird purple sweat still tacky against you, so you hadn’t noticed that your phone wasn’t on the nightstand… Yeah, it was still in your coat.

“Never fear!” Jupiter said. He stopped in front of an office and allowed it to scan his hand. “I have my phone! You can borrow it.” The door opened and he gestured for you to step inside in front of him. It was the first time you’d seen Alphys’s office, but you weren’t particularly focused on it. You accepted Jupiter’s phone and began scrolling through his contacts to find Sans. It took you entirely too long to remember that Jupiter called him Black, not Sans, and you had to start over again at the beginning of the contact list.

As you scrolled, you heard the door click. You glanced up and felt your face immediately pale. Instead of just Alphys, who you were expecting, you got two monsters. Undyne walked Alphys backward into the room, shoving her against the wall and never pulling away from her to check their surroundings. You looked up at Jupiter, blushing furiously. It wasn’t like you’d never seen them kiss, but this was passionate and you really didn’t want to get speared today.

You were both frozen, clearly trying to make some kind of plan. That all went out the window when Alphys let out a near-pornographic moan as Undyne’s hand… Yeah, time to get out of here. Jupiter grabbed your upper arm and drug you toward an unassuming door in the back of the office, his soul thrumming so much that you could actually see the thing beneath his sweater. Could all of the skeletons do that? You’d have to ask later…

Jupiter fiddled with the door. It seemed to respond to Alphys’s voice  _ begging _ behind you. A keypad appeared and Jupiter slapped some keys frantically. For reasons that you would  _ never _ understand no matter how much you thought about it later, the thing whirred like it accepted whatever he hit. He shrugged at you like it wasn’t a big deal, but as soon as the door stopped whirring, a lock you’d never seen before popped out of the door. J upiter stared at it dumbly. Clearly either he didn’t know how to open it either, or he couldn’t open it. Either way, you were pretty confident Undyne was going to kill you when she figured out you were here. You should have spoken up right away; this was _worse_ now! 

“Lemme see your soul,” Undyne grunted and Jupiter blanched beside you. Sharing souls is the most intimate thing a monster could do; if Undyne knew you were here when Alphys whipped out hers…

You’d never wished you could teleport so much in your entire life.

A soft white glow filled the room and you shut your eyes, determined not to look. It wasn’t, like, sexual to you like it was for monsters, but you knew that wouldn’t stop it from being horribly embarrassing for everyone if they had to deal with you seeing it. Ugh, you’d have to tell Sans! You wanted to bang your head on the wall as you thought about all of the puns he’d make about this.

Then the door opened.

Neither of you hesitated long enough to wonder why it opened right then. Jupiter shoved you in by your shoulder and followed you inside, pulling the door mostly closed behind him.  The room was small, much smaller than the hallway or office had been. It clearly wasn’t designed with giant monster comfort in mind. Jupiter had to nearly double over to fit and you were pressed awkwardly against his side while the sounds outside the door got louder and faster.

It took a second for you to notice, but the little closet room wasn’t dark. That is, there was a rainbow of lights glowing softly from somewhere behind you. You turned around and had to clamp your hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming.

There was only one thing in the closet: a sturdy metal shelf. On the shelf were six jars, each tightly sealed and stored in some kind of monster tech. The jars themselves were fine; it was the contents that made you feel like running screaming out of the room, Undyne’s spears and Alyphys’s soul be damned. 

The jars contained souls. And not just any souls: mage souls.

They glowed beautifully, each too vibrant to be a simple human soul. You immediately noted that they had one of every color except red, the color of determination. The rest of the soul traits were represented, including one that nearly matched your own.  _ The hell…? _

You walked over and pressed a hand to the jar with a blue soul hovering in it. A soft, gentle voice flooded your mind. “A mage!” it squeaked. “You can hear me, mage!”

“I hear you,” you whispered.

“Do not be afraid,” the blue soul whispered. “We chose this.”

“You… chose…?” You couldn’t imagine what would cause a mage to choose to give up their soul to be held in stasis forever. Mage souls were supposed to return to the ether so that their magic could be passed on. It was an honor; it allowed your magic to live on after you were gone. Why would anyone want to be in a jar in a closet?

“You do not know what we have helped do,” the whispering continued. “We have saved so many.”

“Our magic made the core,” a new voice whispered and you knew instinctively that it was coming from the yellow soul.

“Our magic gave life to the Underground when the mages betrayed the monsters,” the green soul said.

“Our magic anchors this universe, even through the Resets,” the orange one said. 

“We brought the skeletons here,” the purple one whispered.

“We saved them, and we keep saving them,” the blue soul said.

“Our magic is the only way,” they all said together.

Well, that was fucking creepy.

You backed up slowly holding your hands out. “Then I’ll leave you to it,” you said.

“You should join us,” they all said together. “Your soul is full of power.”

“I’m good, actually.”

“We will wait for you,” they responded.

Your head was swimming with the voices, images of their lives, of falling into the Underground, of saving monsters, of a skeleton with a broken face harnessing their power… 

“Friend Ellie!” a voice called, cutting through the fog. Jupiter had ahold of you, both hands on your shoulders. 

“Jupe,” you said softly. “I feel weird.”

“You were whispering to the souls.”

“Creepy.”

“We should go,” Jupiter said.

“Are they… done?”

“Yes,” Jupiter said, his blush a brilliant orange, “they finished some time ago.”

“Then, yeah, let’s get the hell outta here. And, hey, Jupiter?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s never tell anyone about this weird room, okay?” You held out your pinkie to him and, after a moment, Jupiter took it. 

With that, the two of you left the weird closet full of creepy jars of souls. You had a skeleton that needed his lunch, and you needed a nap far, far away from their whispers. You followed Jupiter onto the elevator and resolutely decided that you were never going back to the lab. You pushed away the last of your disconcertment and tried to smile as you thought about sharing whatever lunch your favorite skeleton had packed that day.


	9. Dark Towers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans might be the unluckiest skeleton in history.

“You know the worst part of our jobs?” you asked. You shifted your weight so that your left leg didn’t fall asleep. Again.

“Our boss?” Mutt suggested, and that earned him a laugh from you and a muttered string of curses from Sans.

“Lack of dark aviator sunglasses?” Stretch suggested.

“Lack of radio discipline?” Sans chimed in.

“Nah, it’s the mind-numbing boredom. For an allegedly haunted castle, there’s a suspiciously small amount of jumpscares.” You stretched and popped your knuckles. “Honestly. We’ve been here for _hours_. Don’t you think we would’ve detected something by now if there was anything to detect?”

“Marcie seemed real sure,” Stretch drawled. “I can’t imagine the FBI sends a private jet for just anyone.”

“You know she doesn’t work for the FBI, right?” you said. 

You could almost hear the shrug from all the way across the pond. “Close enough. She’s a suit. Can’t imagine she’s told us who she really works for anyway. I’ve seen Men in Black and they look an awful lot like her, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

You sighed. Stretch wasn’t wrong necessarily. Marcie was your government contact assigned to the Paranormal Division of the Embassy. You’d been working with her nearly as long as you had Sans, Mutt, and Stretch, and trusted her with your life only marginally less than your boys. ‘Course, you didn’t trust her to be telling the truth, but most of the skeleton bros couldn’t be trusted to do that either. That’s why you had to make honesty a term of your relationship with Sans; otherwise, you were sure he would just lie to you whenever it suited him, just like Comic, Mars, Stretch, and Red. You idly wondered if the new skeleton pair had a designated liar. 

Marcie didn’t usually bullshit about the job, though. She’d called the Embassy and reported that an old castle in northern England was… cursed? Five separate families had tried to take possession of it and five separate families had all met untimely ends, from car crashes to a lion attack (seriously, a lion escaped the zoo and mauled them), within a week of moving into the castle. She was convinced that alliumedes were to blame but couldn’t get away to investigate herself, so she asked your team to take a look. 

It seemed stupid to you, but you weren’t about to turn up your nose at a private jet on the government’s dime.

The problem was you hadn’t felt a lick of allimagic since setting foot in the castle. You even resorted to setting up a relay network so Stretch’s computer back home could read the electromagnetic waves for you. The app on your phone was great, but it wasn’t nearly as sensitive as his full-fledged computer. If there was allimagic too weak for the phone to pick up (and for you to sense, apparently) the computer should have picked it up.

So far, nothing.

Sans wanted to make sure you did everything you could to confirm that alliumedes weren’t involved, so you were now staked out in one of the higher towers of the castle, kneeling in the dark, waiting for _something_ to happen. Just like you had been for the last four hours.

“When do we get to call this game?” Mutt asked. He was in another of the castle’s towers.

“When morning comes. If we haven’t seen anything by then, we may need to investigate the possibility of a curse,” Sans answered. He was stashed in the basement because he lost rock, paper, scissors. It smelled like weird skunk down there. You’d played the “only team member with hair that the smell won’t wash out of” card and the two boys duked it out. When Sans’s scissors were crushed by Mutt’s rock, he muttered about how the basement didn’t even smell and he didn’t know why you were making such a big deal.

Whatever. Sore loser.

“That’s weird.” Stretch was using that voice he used when he found something but wasn’t ready to reveal it yet. No amount of cajoling would get him to open up before he was ready, so you waited to hear what he came up with.

Sans, however, chose to ignore that tone. “What is it?” he demanded immediately.

“Hold your panties, bossman. I need to…” Stretch trailed off and you heard the faint sound of claws on computer keys. “Huh. There’s some loose intentless allimagic floating around in there. It’s faint, but it’s definitely there.”

“I don’t feel anything,” you said. “Are you sure?”

“Did you not hear me say ‘definitely’? There’s somethin’ in that castle.”

“Where?” Mutt asked.

More clacking on the keyboard before, “Basement.”

“Mutt! Come get me!” you said. You paused, waiting for the tell-tale sounds of teleportation, but none came. “Mutt?” you asked.

“Uh… I’m feelin’ low on magic,” he said softly.

“Oh! Okay, I’ll just hoof it down there. I guess?” You were approximately seven floors from the basement, but you didn’t want Mutt to run out of magic or anything. “Sans, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I do not see anything of note down here. I’ll keep looking.”

“Pull out your phone. I can triangulate the location if I have more data points,” Stretch said. “Might be able to tell you exactly where in the basement the allimagic is.”

“Copy that.”

You also pulled out your phone even though you were still a good distance away before that would be helpful. You went as fast as you dared, but even the light of your headlamp made it difficult to see the stairs. They were unevenly cut and showed signs of wear, pieces crumbling under your quick feet. You kept one hand on the wall and held your phone out with the other. By the time you reached the ground floor, you were breathing heavily. You really needed to start working out with Sans. Ugh. You rounded the corner into what used to be a kitchen and shone the headlamp around the room scanning for the door to the cellar that Sans was inside. It was a rotted wooden door that barely offered any resistance as you opened it. You swung your legs over the end and looked down. “Is the ladder safe?” you asked.

“It should be,” Sans replied, “but I will come to meet you there anyway.”

You stared down into the darkness until you saw two purple lights glowing up at you. You grinned and waved at him. “Hey there buddy,” you said.

“I’m ready to catch you, should the ladder break.”

“What ‘bout me, bro?” You glanced up and smiled to see Mutt standing over the hole too.

“You will have to simply catch yourself,” Sans sniffed. “I only catch beautiful ladies that are falling to their deaths.”

“Aw, bro, don’t be that way,” Mutt said, but he gestured towards the ladder. “You should go first, though.”

You didn’t hesitate, instead sliding onto the old wooden ladder. You felt it shudder under your weight and were abruptly reminded that, no matter how big they seem, skeletons weigh significantly less than humans. And mages.

“Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll catch you if you fall,” Sans said, and you began to climb down. You trusted him.

You made it all the way to the bottom without the ladder giving out. You still felt Sans grab ahold of you, placing a guiding hand on your back so that you didn’t slip. You heard Mutt climbing above you and allowed Sans to pull you out of the way. “Ugh, it smells worse down here than I thought!” you told him.

“I’m afraid I’ve lost my nose for the smell,” Sans said with a grin.

“What happened to radio discipline?” you grumbled and he chuckled beside you.

Once Mutt made it down, the three of you spread out and began searching the basement. You still didn’t really feel anything, and even with the phones to triangulate the source of the allimagic, your search still turned up nothing. After a couple of hours, Stretch made a frustrated noise in your ear. “Listen gang, with the sun coming up, I think we’re gonna need to call it. Y’all pulled an all-nighter and need to get your rest.”

Everyone reluctantly agreed and Mutt led the way up the ladder. It groaned and creaked under him and you, but it held. Sans brought up the rear, so you sat on the floor of the kitchen while you waited on Sans to climb out of the hole.

A deafening crack forced you to your feet. “Sans!” you yelled, running to the edge of the cellar. You leaned over and let out a breath. Sans was hovering a few inches above the ground, his soul glowing blue in his chest. You looked over and saw Mutt with one hand extended and one glowing eye light. You quickly cast a shield around Sans and helped support Mutt’s magic as he hauled his brother up to the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” you gasped, pulling him into your arms the second he touched down on the kitchen floor. He let you squeeze him and then draw back and look him over.

“I am fine,” Sans told you warmly, but you still insisted on giving him a once over. He stood obediently still and let you. “You’re getting better with blue magic,” he said to Mutt. “Much faster on the draw.”

Mutt turned a little purple then said, “Someone had to keep ya from breakin’ every bone in your body.” 

You laughed and wrapped an arm around Sans’s waist. “Let’s head back to the hotel and get some sleep.”

“I’ll analyze the data and see what I can figure out,” Stretch said.

“Thanks,” you told him, then you focused your attention on the skeleton leaning into you a little bit. It reminded you a bit of your cat, seeking comfort by pressing against you more and more. You allowed it, assuming that your boyfriend was a little rattled (ugh), but made a mental note to force him into the shower as soon as you got to the hotel. He smelled like a dead skunk.

***

The shower did absolutely nothing to your boyfriend’s musk. “Did the water actually make it worse?” you mused when he tried to pull you in for a kiss. “I’m sorry, you know I love you, but I absolutely cannot kiss you right now. I’m afraid the smell will get on me.”

“I thought you said you’d love me no matter what!” Sans said, scandalized.

“I do love you. But you are sleeping on the couch.” You gestured to the pullout couch that your room came with. “Maybe if we open the window it’ll dissipate a bit.”

“It’s precious that you think we’re sleeping with the window open under any circumstances.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.” You crawled onto the bed and dove under the comforter before chucking a couple of pillows at Sans. “Get comfy, I’m sure we’ll need to go back--”

A squawk from Sans cut you off. You looked up and he was holding his skull and _marrow_ was pouring out from beneath his hand. “Holy shit! Sans!” You threw yourself off the bed and ran to him. “What happened?”

“One of those pillows isn’t just a pillow,” Sans said, his words slurring a little. You tapped the one closest to you with your foot. It felt like it had rocks in it.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” you cooed. You drug him over to the small sink area and forced him to hold still while you got your headlamp to look at the wound better. When he moved his claws, you had to stifle a gasp. The pillow left a small crack that webbed out across his forehead. “This needs more than I can do,” you told him.

He waved you off. “There’s no monster hospital here. We’ll make due.”

“Sans--”

“Just heal it a bit so I can get some rest.” He did look tired. You sighed then relented, placing your fingertips on the hole. You shut your eyes and concentrated on pushing healing intent through your fingers. Sans winced as your fingers heated up, but he otherwise held perfectly still while you worked.

Your magic was able to close most of the hole, leaving behind a small scrape. You wet a washrag and gently cleaned it off, taking care to get any marrow off of his face. Next, you peeled off his gloves and made sure his phalanges weren’t gross.

By the time you finished, Sans was visibly drowsing. Despite your earlier declaration that he was taking the couch, you guided him to the bed and made him climb in. He did, curling into a ball. You pulled the blankets up around him, then grabbed your phone and set a timer. As much as he needed his sleep, you weren’t about to let a concussion patient sleep straight through. You knew how dangerous it could be. You sent both Stretch and Mutt a text then leaned back on the sofa to watch over Sans as he slept.

***

After several hours of interrupted sleep, Sans seemed to feel better. He was coherent and cranky, which made you feel a whole lot better. He swatted you away when you tried to heal his skull again. “We’re going back tonight!” he growled at you. “You’ll need your magic!”

Mutt came over to assess his brother at your behest, grabbing Sans by the shoulders and staring into his eyes for several seconds before nodding. “He’s alright,” he announced. “Good call on healin’ ‘im though.”

“Are you sure about going back tonight? Maybe you should rest,” you suggested, but Sans shot you a withering look.

“Honestly, you’re both acting like this is a severe injury. I got hurt worse than this on a typical patrol back in Swapfell. This is nothing.”

“That actually doesn’t make me feel a ton better,” you admitted. At the same time, Mutt shrugged and said, “Get murdered by angry ghosts then.”

Sans huffed his way to the bathroom to change into his Stakeout Outfit and, after a quick pitstop for some IHOP, the three of you were headed back to the least haunted castle you’d ever been to.

Sans insisted on parking the rental car at the back of the IHOP parking lot, citing all kinds of statistics about door dings and how much the rental company would charge if the car was damaged. NEVERMIND that the car was also being paid for by the government; no, Sans couldn’t allow any car to succumb to such an awful fate as a _door ding_.

Sans led the way to the car, his phalanges laced with your fingers. He was wistfully telling you about a recipe he wanted to try when you went home, some kind of strawberry thing, when a screeching noise caught your attention. On the busy street in front of you, a car was going entirely too fast to stop for the newly-red light. It careened off the road in an effort to dodge incoming traffic, it’s path launching it over a sidewalk and threw a hedge. 

And directly towards you and Sans.

You felt a sharp tug, then a brief chill, and finally you staggered out of the void and landed on your butt on the ground. Sans stood protectively over you, magic flickering on the tips of his fingers. You watched in horror as the car slammed into your rental car at top speed, flipping over and catching on fire. You tried to get up, but Sans turned your soul blue and pushed you back down. “Stay here,” he ordered.

“I’m four centuries old!” you yelled at his back as he ran towards the burning car. 

Mutt was already there, pulling an unconscious man from the driver’s seat. You couldn’t hear what he yelled to Sans, but you figured it was some kind of quip about the rental car or a status update. You watched as Mutt turned the man’s soul blue and floated him away from the car towards the restaurant. Sans stayed near the car, maybe trying to check on the rental car…?

A smell wafted over you. Gasoline? You looked over and noticed liquid dribbling out of the side of the car. 

Shit shit shit shit _shitshitshitshitshit_!

You threw a shield around Sans as the car exploded. You fell backward and felt the wind get knocked out of you as your back hit the asphalt, but you funneled all of your focus into the shield. Sans was too close to that explosion and high HP can only do so much and--

“Ellie?” Mutt yelled at you. Your breathing hitched as you sat up. Mutt was standing by a prone figure frantically waving you over. 

You staggered to your feet and made your way over. Sans was on the ground, still shimmering purple from your shield. So the shield held? But why wasn’t he moving? You sank to your knees beside him. Mutt was kneeling too, his hands scrabbling over his brother. He didn’t seem to be actually _doing_ anything, just touching. He looked up at you, his eye lights shrank down so small that you could barely see them. “Help,” he gasped out. “Please.”

“Right. Right. Okay.” You dropped the shield and ran a check. His HP took a bit of a hit, but it was still well above the ¾ mark. You couldn’t help but laugh at his flavor text: _It’s been one hell of a day._ Gently, carefully, you placed a hand on his shoulder. It didn’t seem like his clothing was singed there so maybe he wasn’t hurt there? “Sans,” you said softly but firmly. He didn’t move or answer, so you tried again. “Sans.”

He gave you a small groan for that. His eye sockets blinked open and his eye lights focused on you. He gave you a goofy grin, one that you’d never seen on his face before. Honestly, he looked a little like Comic like that. “Hey there lover,” you said. “You okay?”

“Against my better judgment,” he croaked. He sat up and looked around. His face changed when he saw the remains of the car. He turned to you wildly. “Are you alright?” He reached out to touch your cheek but stopped short.

“I’m fine,” you said. “I wasn’t anywhere near it.”

“Papyrus!” he gasped, looking around again.

“‘M fine, too,” Mutt said. His eye lights were back to normal, but you didn’t miss that his hands were shaking. “Shit, bro, how many times you gonna try to die on this trip?”

Sans snorted. “I assure you that I am not doing it on purpose.”

“I don’t wanna get on the plane with you if ya don’ break this streak,” Mutt muttered.

“Wait,” you said slowly. “Hey, Sans.” Your boyfriend looked over at you. “You said you didn’t smell the weird smell in the basement, right?”

Sans blinked at you. Mutt shook his head. “You wanna talk ‘bout work now? Sans was almost part of a firework!”

“Just answer the question!”

“No,” he said slowly, “I didn’t smell anything.”

“Mutt?” you prompted.

It took him a second to realize you were calling on him to answer the same question. “Don’t remember,” he admitted.

“Okay.” You leaned forward and sniffed Sans. He recoiled from you, a look of absolute horror on his face. You doubted that him discovering you cheating on him with Mars would’ve garnered such a look. “Sniff Sans,” you said to Mutt.

“Nah,” Mutt said. “‘M good.”

“I’m serious. Sniff your brother.”

“I really would rather he didn’t,” Sans weighed in.

You gave them an exasperated sigh. “Seriously? You two think this is just my kink now? I have a good reason! Just do it.”

The brothers exchanged a look, then Sans extended his arm below Mutt’s nasal ridge with a huff. Mutt sniffed then looked at you like you were insane. “He smells like burnt rubber,” Mutt said, “an’ that nasty cologne he bought to impress ya.”

Sans smacked his brother, but you ignored them. “No, he doesn’t,” you said softly. “He smells like skunk.” You dug in your pocket and pulled out a small metal box that contained your earpiece and popped the piece into your ear. “Stretch? Stretch are you there?”

“The honeybun ain’t here right now. Can I take a message?” a surly voice replied.

You rolled your eyes. “Red, it’s important. Where’s Stretch?”

“He asked me to watch the comms so he and my bro could do things that’d break a big brother’s heart,” Red said. “You wan’ me to get him?”

“Actually yes, unless you can use my phone to scan for allimagic at whatever crazy frequency he was using last night.”

Red sighed and began to complain, but you interrupted him. “Dude, Sans has nearly died four times now. I don’t have time for your comedy routine just now. Save it for the show at the MTT.”

“Almost died? How?” Red asked, all humor dropping immediately.

“That’s why I need Stretch.”

“I’ll get ‘im.”

You didn’t have to wait long before Stretch came over the comms. “This better be real good,” he drawled angrily. “I finally got Edge to agree to play scientist and his trusting lab subject and we were just about to begin the experiment.”

“I need you to scan this area for allimagic using the sensors you used last night.”

A moment of silence, then, “Huh.”

“Care to share with the class?” Sans asked archly.

“Same allimagic’s in that IHOP parking lot with you,” Stretch said. “How…?”

“I think Sans, like, got cursed by it,” you said. “I think that’s why he’s almost died four times in the last two days, ever since he left the basement.” 

“The skunk smell!” Stretch said triumphantly. “Of course! This allimagic presents as a smell!”

“Right-o. And this magic kills people through very unlucky accidents,” you said.

“You ever see anything like it?” Mutt asked, drawing you back to the two skeletons kneeling in the parking lot with you.

You looked down and pushed your hair away from your face. “Once,” you admitted.

“Once?” Stretch prompted.

“Uh… Something like this happened in France once. It was a lot bigger, though.”

“What happened in France?” Sans asked softly. He caught your chin and raised your face to meet his eye lights.

“Uh… The French revolution happened. Lotta people lost their heads.”

Sans sighed. “I wish that was a pun.”

***

Exactly eight days later, you stood with one both feet firmly at the edge of the castle kitchen, staring at your watch. “Three… Two… One…” Stretch counted down in your ear.

You covered your nose and coughed as the whole room flooded with the smell of skunk so strong that your eyes watered. Exactly as planned. Since none of the families survived a week, you hypothesized that the magic would detach from Sans if he survived that long. You'd had to practically bubblewrap him, but he was still alive. Against all odds.

"Go," Strech said, and you didn’t hesitate, taking off up the winding flights of stairs towards the top of the tallest tower of the castle. You’d done this same run several times over the last eight days with Mutt timing you each time, so you knew exactly how many steps it was up to the top of the tower. You had to memorize the path perfectly; this particular mission couldn’t include any lights so you were in complete darkness. You were pretty sure the magic was fueled by light since all of the near-death experiences occurred in well-lit areas.

At step 492, you jumped and landed on the dark brick at the top of the tower, just like you had on most of your other runs. You didn’t stumble and you didn’t break stride as you pounded towards your destination. It’d taken both you and Mutt most of a day to remove the large stones that made up the edge of the battlements so that there was no barrier between you and the edge of the tower.

In your last three steps, you reminded yourself that you trusted Sans and Mutt. You trusted Stretch’s count and their magic, that they would be where they were supposed to be and they would be ready. You sucked in a deep breath, even as the stitch in your side protested, then threw yourself off the side of the battlement.

The cold night air rushed around your face but refused to enter your lungs no matter how you tried to breathe in. You twisted your body around so that you were facing back up towards the tower. You couldn’t hear Stretch counting down the time as you fell, but you knew he was. You tried to smell the air around you, but you couldn’t. You’d just have to trust that it worked.

You had nine seconds from the top of the tour to the ground, Stretch had calculated. If you fell the full nine seconds, your velocity would be such that even a shield wouldn’t help you when you hit the ground. If, however, your velocity was cut off within the first four seconds of your fall, you’d be fine even without the shield, which was fortunate because you were pretty sure you wouldn’t have time to summon one.

Suddenly, the whooshing air stopped, replaced by total silence. For one second, maybe two, there was no air around you. You didn’t speed up; you just… fell.

Then the wind was back, softer.

And then you weren’t falling anymore. You felt yourself land in two solid arms. Your arms automatically wrapped around the neck of the skeleton who caught you. You met his worried eye lights as he asked, “Do you smell skunk?”

You took a deep breath and coughed a few times like your lungs forgot how to expand. Finally, you were able to take in enough air to smell it. It smelled like a lot of things: cold night air, dew, and the soft smell of erasers from the skeleton that was holding you, but the smell of skunk was distinctly lacking. You looked up at Mutt with a dumb grin on your face. “No skunk,” you confirmed.

Your earpiece crackled with cheers as Stretch (and probably Red and Comic too) erupted in cheers. You smiled even bigger and planted a silly kiss on Mutt’s cheek. “We did it! We can go home!”

“I’ll take this,” Sans said from beside you. He pulled you into his arms and you laughed as he leaned down to kiss you properly. “Please don’t ever jump off a building again,” he said against your ear.

“I can’t make any promises,” you said. “Besides, you’ll be there to slow me down with a void portal, so I don’t see the problem.”

“Least he’ll get to be there, not dead from some skunk curse,” Mutt said helpfully. Sans rolled his eye lights but he couldn’t do more than that with you snuggled in his arms.

“I cannot believe that worked!” Stretch yelled. “I mean, the math was good but the chances--”

“Ixnay,” Mutt said, and Stretch obligingly shut up.

“Well, now that we’ve trapped _that_ in the void, are you ready to go home?” Sans asked you. “I must admit, I’m thrilled to be allowed to leave the castle.”

“It was for your own safety,” you pointed out, then pulled yourself up to give him another kiss. “But let’s go home.”

“Ya know,” Mutt said slowly, “if we tell Marcie we died we could prob’ly keep the jet.”

“Oh, free jet! Hey, Edge,” you said, trusting that Edge could hear you over the earpiece, “can we have a jet please?”

“Absolutely not. I saw what you did to that rental car,” Edge said dryly

“You--!” Sans exclaimed, but you laughed and snuggled in closer to his chest, effectively distracting him. It’d been eight days since he’d been allowed to touch you, after all. 

“Let’s go home,” he finally said, voice warm. 

Indeed. Home.


	10. Floral Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen. I promised myself I wouldn't do Flowey for Floral Horror. It's too easy. It's a cliche. Everyone's doing Flowey. It's overdone. I'm more creative than that...
> 
> So anyway, this chapter's about Flowey.
> 
> Warning for a gruesome injury, descriptions of death, PTSD episode, mention of being in a hospital... I think that's it? These boys have had a tough life and I'm just really glad they're in this universe now, that's all.

Papyrus knew that he was having a flashback, that none of this was real. All of the signs that the little human doctor told him to look for were there: the ethereal quality of everything around him, time skips, suddenly being somewhere he wasn’t before, things resetting… Somewhere inside he knew that he was in the hospital in a universe that wasn’t his. 

But the logical voice of the human seemed so far away, drowned out by the maniacal laughing. It was high-pitched in a way that he could only describe as unhinged. It was almost child-like, if a child was possessed by a demon and being ripped apart while it was forced to laugh for some reason.

The snow he was kneeling in was cold, so cold, colder than he remembered Snowdin ever being for real. Around him was screaming, so much screaming, but the screaming was better than the silence. Silence meant he was alone. 

He peeked out from behind the rock he was hunkered behind. The Thing had ripped apart most of the guard in a matter of seconds, the Dogi turning to dust before Papyrus even knew what was happening. He could hear Knight-Knight screaming, crying out for Madjick. Then, there was a horrible ripping sound and the screaming stopped.

The Thing laughed again. “Come out, come out wherever you are,” it cackled. Papyrus hunched over and tried to make himself smaller. “Oh Papyrus, you know we’ve done this so many times before! How many times have I killed you here? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? Who can even remember anymore?” The ground shifted, an indicator that the Thing was moving. So it didn’t know where he was? Did he usually hide here? He didn’t know, it was all so fuzzy.

Papyrus nearly screamed when something appeared beside him. His magic lashed out, but the figure knocked aside his attack and slammed his hand over Papyrus’s mouth. Papyrus breathed deep and recognized the smell before he recognized the figure.

Sans.

His older brother was kneeling in the snow beside him, his eye lights wild. His black jacket was in tatters and marrow leaked through holes in the t-shirt underneath. He wanted to tell Sans to run, to leave, to save himself, but the words wouldn’t come. He knew what happened if the Thing found them. It was right; It had killed him so many times. But was Sans usually there? Sometimes, he thought, but not always, which meant that Sans could be saved. Papyrus couldn’t, but Sans could.

Sans shook his head violently and Papyrus realized his brother knew what he was thinking. Of course he did; Sans always knew what Papyrus was thinking. Besides, they’d done this all before, hadn’t they?

The ground shifted again and Papyrus looked at his brother in terror. “‘S’okay,” Sans whispered. “It’ll hurt, then he’ll Reset. We’ll be ok.”

Papyrus nodded. Sans was right, of course, Sans was always right. It would hurt, but then everything would be okay again. The Dogi would be alive and they’d be back in their house and Papyrus and Sans would both sleep in and try to ignore what happened, wait until it happened again. Maybe this time, the Thing would stop.

Papyrus shrieked as a vine grabbed the rock they crouched behind. Sans was ripped away from him and he couldn’t see through the snow. A vine wrapped around his waist and hoisted him out of the snow and he was face to face with the Thing. Its face should have been pretty, the bright yellow petals gorgeously framing the soft floral face.

It wasn’t pretty.

“Papyrus!” the Thing said with glee. “I found you! You lost our little game. What shall I do with you now?” A vine shifted and Papyrus saw the Thing lift Sans by his arm. “Perhaps I should play with your brother instead?”

“No!” Papyrus cried before he could stop himself. Begging didn’t help, it never helped. Better to be silent, that's what he learned in all the resets. It was over quicker and hurt less when he was quiet.

The Thing looked at him and smiled. Papyrus shivered. He knew he shouldn’t say anything, should listen to Sans and let It do whatever It wanted, but… But maybe this time… “You should play nice if you want people to be friends!” Papyrus said. He heard his voice shake but tried to ignore it.

The Thing’s smile melted away. “How many times do I have to tell you,” it growled, “that you are not my father!” It slammed him into the ground and Papyrus’s head exploded in pain. “You are not the boss of me!” the Thing screamed, slamming him again. And again. And again, until Papyrus was barely clinging to consciousness. Then the Thing stopped as quickly as It started. “Maybe I should make sure you can  _ never _ tell anyone what to do again!” the Thing shrieked.

Papyrus struggled as a vine shoved itself into his mouth. He felt it wrap around his jaw and then… And then… 

So much pain.

“Papyrus!” a new voice screamed, not the Thing, but someone he loved.

Papyrus felt his eye lights blink back on and he looked around. His brother was kneeling in front of him, holding his shoulders and looking at him with concern. Beside him, a copy of his brother wearing a black sweatshirt and jeans stood with his arm around a human. Papyrus shook his head and the maniacal laughter and the pain faded.

“You’re safe,” his brother told him. “We’re safe. He can’t hurt ya again.”

Papyrus tried to answer, but remembered he couldn’t talk. The Thing… The Thing _had_ made sure he never told anyone what to do ever again, just like It said it would. Papyrus raised his hands and quickly signed to Sans that he was okay, it was a nightmare, he was fine.

Sans watched his hands intently, then nodded. “That’s right, bro. You’re fine.”

Papyrus looked over at the other Sans and the human. Neither seemed scared. Maybe just worried?  _ I’m sorry I worried you, _ he signed quickly.

“It’s quite alright,” Other Sans said. “You are recovering. Certain… incidents are to be expected.”

Incidents. Right. 

The human smiled at him and Papyrus felt his cracked soul clench. She looked kind. “Don’t worry about anything, Papyrus. We just wanted to come and see how you’re doing. We brought you some cookies. Edge and Blue made them.” The human set a little basket on the small table by Papyrus’s chair.

_ Thank you _ , he signed, though he wasn't sure who Edge and Blue were. He'd met other skeletons, other-hims, but there were so many.

“You’re welcome.” The human looked over at Other Sans, then back to Papyrus. “It’s really going to be okay,” she said finally. “I know… It’s a lot, and the other skeletons had trouble too when they first got here. But it’ll get better.”

“Thanks for the cookies,” Sans said, and everything about his tone was dismissive. He didn’t like the pretty human, Papyrus realized. The human did too; Papyrus saw her smile fall just a little bit.

“I will be back by tomorrow,” Other Sans said. “Remember to text me if you think of anything you want.”

That was right, Other Sans brought him and Sans each a phone. “So you can reach me if the need arises,” he’d said. He’d even put his number in there, along with several others that he said would help if they couldn’t reach him. Maybe that was how he knew the names Edge and Blue; perhaps they were in his phone as helpers? Papyrus picked up the phone and looked at the contact list. “Black”. That’s right. Other Sans was called Black.

_ See you tomorrow, Black,  _ he signed.

“See you tomorrow,” Black said, then he and the human walked back through the door.

Sans didn’t like the human, Papyrus reminded himself, so he probably shouldn't either. But Sans wasn’t _always_ right. He'd been wrong that last time. The Thing never reset. The Dogi never came back, and the human child wasn't their friend, not ever. But, as Papyrus watched the little human and Black leave, he thought that maybe Sans was right about things being okay after all.


	11. An Ordinary Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans was just trying to have a perfectly normal coffee, thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning for mention of therapy**

Though he doubted anyone would suspect it of him, Sans really did dislike being in the house alone. The therapist that Eleanor kept passive aggressively leaving him cards for would likely trace it back to the trauma of being abandoned by his “mother” in the Underground centuries ago and would want to dissect that until he cried and sang Kumbaya or whatever the fuck you did at therapy. 

Therapy was fine for Eleanor and Papyrus. And Stretch. And Comic. And Mars and Jupiter. It just wasn’t for him. Sans preferred to simply ignore the problem.

“Problem” was a strong word for it anyway, when he was home alone so rarely since his relationship with Eleanor deepened. Between her, his brother, his job, and his ridiculous gaggle of “cousins”, Sans found very little time to confront his inner abandonment issues. 

And, when all else failed and everyone else was busy in one way or another as they were tonight, well, Sans was nothing if not resourceful. He could certainly form a plan to occupy his above-average mind for one evening. Eleanor was simply visiting some friends; she had promised to stop back by afterwards. Papyrus was… Well, honestly who knew where Papyrus was on nights that they didn’t have a case, but he could always activate the tracker if he needed to. Wherever he was, it was likely he’d drag himself back in by morning. The rest of the family was on a diplomatic mission overseas, save for Edge and Stretch, who were close enough to newlyweds that Sans didn’t dare knock on their door. For all he was finding that enjoyed some carousing himself, he was less than enthused at the idea of finding those two pelvis-deep in one another. No matter; he only had a few hours to kill before Eleanor returned, likely with stories of misadventures with her old college buddies.

See? It was a non-issue. Sans was fine.

He certainly wasn’t sitting in a coffee shop nursing his third cup of the evening because he couldn’t stand the silence of the empty house, crushing his bones, feeling far too much like a tiny apartment in New Home, back when he was a baby bones bouncing an even smaller baby bones… 

He just liked coffee. And coffee shops. And people watching.

Speaking of, something across the shop caught his attention. There was a human child. Sans wouldn’t dare guess its age or gender, not after all of the times he’d been so very wrong, but it seemed to him to be a male around the age of seven. It (he?) was standing stock still simply staring in the window. Sans glanced around, trying to find the youth’s parents. It seemed small enough that it should have parents of some kind about (and nevermind that he was about the monster equivalent of that age when Mother simply hadn’t come home), but there didn’t seem to be any adults attached to it. 

He went back to his coffee and tried to ignore the hollow eyes as the child continued to stare, but by the time he finished his cup, his royal guard instincts were taking over. He may not be in the royal guard anymore, but he’d be damned if he was going to leave a child alone in the autumnal chill.  He shoved his chair back, the metal scraping harshly against the floor, and pushed open the door and stepped out into the cold. The child didn’t look up at him; instead, it just kept staring in the window. Sans did not find that unnerving at all; why should he? It was simply a human child, and nevermind what Papyrus had told him about the resets.

“Young… person… are you alright?” Sans asked, stumbling when he remembered not to assume the child’s gender.

The child didn’t move, instead continuing its stare. Sans swallowed an irritated sigh and knelt down a bit so that he was at the child’s eye level. “Are you alright?” he repeated, a little louder and a little slower. When the child didn’t respond, he tentatively reached out a gloved hand and touched its shoulder.

That broke whatever spell was holding the youth there.

The child turned to him, eyes widening and mouth opening impossibly wide. A horrifying sound escaped its mouth, a terrible cry the likes of which the former captain of the royal guard had never heard before. (And if it reminded him of the wails of hunger he and Papyrus had offered up in those first weeks in that cramped apartment, well then that was his business.) 

Sans made a tactical retreat, teleporting himself around the corner of the building. He knelt in the dirty alley, breathing hard and trying to gain some composure. Surely he had simply happened upon an alliumede, one that took the appearance of a human youth. That was perfectly fine. He knew how to deal with that. He peeked around the corner, the piercing wail still carrying from where he left the youth. He fished his phone out of his pocket to scan it, only to drop the phone by accident. He cursed as it fell to the ground. Retrieving it revealed that the screen was shattered. Of course.

With a jerk, he realized that the wailing had stopped. He looked up and saw that the child was no longer alone. Two human adults were talking to it. Sans shook his head grimly; surely they had fallen into the same trap that he had. He stood back up and straightened his peacoat, stepping out of the alley. 

Then, their words reached him.

“... It was a skeleton, mama!” the youth sobbed, grabbing at the human woman’s coat.

“Now, Gage, we’ve talked about making up stories,” the human man admonished, lighting a cigarette. 

“Marshall!” the woman yelped, slapping the man’s arm. “You promised!”

“I think I can be forgiven this one, Peg.” He took a long drag and looked back down at the child. “We’ve been looking for you for an hour! You’re lucky you weren’t killed.”

“We were so worried,” the woman said tearfully.

“I just smelled the cupcakes,” the child explained, “but there was a skeleton in there having a coffee!”

Sans faltered, one foot raised to step forward when the context of the conversation sank in. The child had been staring at him. It didn’t have any adults with it because it was lost. It wasn’t an alliumede; it was only a normal human child. Irritated, he wiped the sweat that was beading on his skull. He looked down at his shaking hands and formed two fists. Clearly three coffees was a bad idea. His broken phone and equally broken nerves could attest to that. He watched as the parents embraced the youth and led him away, and Sans teleporting home at that moment had absolutely nothing to do with the raw emotion gathering in the back of his throat, a longing that only cropped up on evenings like this one. 

He was simply heading home to wait for his lover and his brother. And, if all of the lights were on in the house and every television blaring loudly when they arrived, well. Sans simply wanted to catch up on his Netflix viewing. Nothing more.


	12. Ordinary Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long week for Sans, but it's not over yet. Mutt and Ellie get new nicknames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How to warn on this one? There are descriptions of dead children, an injury involving marrow, mentions of racism against monsters and Native Americans, and a lot of religious stuff. I mean, it's called "Ordinary Church" so... But if you want to skip this one, I'll put a short overview at the end so that you can skip it without skipping any interesting story tidbits.
> 
> Also, I tried to do some research on this one as it includes Catholocism and Nordic mythology. I'm not deeply familiar with either, so I apologize for any nuances I missed or things I got outright wrong. Can we just agree that anything I got wrong is because this isn't OUR universe? It's one SUPER like ours, except for whatever I got wrong?
> 
> All of that being said, I did my best to get it right.

“Are we about done for the day?” 

Sans looked up from the stack of paperwork he was working through slowly. Stretch was in the hospital again and Edge was staying by his side. Sans approved, of course, but that meant that he was fielding a good deal of Edge’s paperwork as well as his own. That wasn’t even counting the evening hours he spent visiting the new skeleton brothers in the hospital. It led to several late nights over the last few weeks, though it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. 

His assistant, Thomas, was standing at the door. Sans glanced at the clock and winced when he saw that it was well after eight. “Yes, of course. My apologies for holding you over,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“It’s not a problem, boss man. You, uh, gonna go home and get some rest?”

Sans resisted the urge to roll his eye lights at him. Thomas, a young member of the Dogi, had been his assistant since Sans joined the Embassy. He was fond of the monster, at least as fond as he could be of one whose loyalty could be so easily swayed by a pretty mage with an attitude problem. He’d been quite the professional worker, a little frightened of Sans, which served his purposes well, until you’d wandered into his life. Since then, Thomas had slowly converted to your side and was now a firm member of what you affectionately termed “Team Sans-Care.” Basically, you recruited everyone around him to make sure he ate, went home at reasonable times, and didn’t allow himself to get too stressed out.

It would be more annoying if it weren’t so damn sweet. And if it hadn’t reduced his magic flare-ups from once a month to once a quarter.

“I have a bit more that has to be finished this evening,” Sans said evenly, “and then I will head home.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes at Sans. “I’ll stay too, then. I’ll grab you some coffee, boss.” With that, he zipped away. Sans groaned and leaned back in his chair, popping his spine as he did. Of course, he wanted to go home; he didn’t want to live at the Embassy, not anymore. Now he had a beautiful datemate waiting on him, not to mention a great relationship with his brother and the rest of his new family, working long hours no longer held the appeal that they once did. Stars, he'd missed you these past weeks, but it couldn't be helped. His phone buzzed, pulling him from his wistful thoughts.

Ah, speak of the devil.

Sans’s phone vibrated again and he smiled to see your picture pop up on the screen. You were probably calling to see when he would be home; surely you and Mutt were hungry and wanted to know if he would be cooking tonight. He answered the call, already smiling, “Hello, dear. I know that it is late; Thomas has already made it clear that I need to go home. I have one more file to finish and then I’ll head out.”

“Hi, yeah, sorry to put a kibosh on those plans. We got a call from Devon.”

Sans rubbed his brow. “Devon? What did he say?”

“What do you think he said? He’s got a lead for us. Sounded urgent.”

“Very well. Have Mutt teleport you to my office and we will go from there.”

He’d barely hung up the phone when you and Mutt were sitting the chairs across from his desk. He couldn’t help but look you over; he felt like he hadn’t seen you in ages. You were wearing one of his novelty math shirts that Mutt insisted on buying him for every holiday (this one said “Totes Radical!” and featured a cartoonish radical symbol with spiky hair and rock hands) and a pair of jeans. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride when he saw you in his clothes, but now was not the time.

“Report,” he said.

“Devon says that something’s going down at a friend of his’s church,” you said.

“‘Going down’?”

You shrugged. “Not sure. He said it was our kind of gig and I figured we all trust Devon to know what the hell he’s talking about so we should just check it out. He texted me the address.”

Sans nodded. He did trust Devon, as much as he trusted any humans really. Devon was the priest of a small church in downtown Ebbott and he went a long way to convincing Sans that not all religious humans used it as an excuse to be hurtful. Devon welcomed monsters, humans, and mages alike into his congregation and never once made Sans feel any sort of pressure to pursue religious beliefs. In return, any time they encountered anyone that was seeking spiritual answers after one of their encounters, as was fairly common among humans who were experiencing alliumedes, curses, or hauntings for the first time, Sans knew who to direct them to.

The address required two teleports from Sans’s office, so by the time they arrived, Sans felt pleasantly achy, as if he’d just been to the gym. He hadn’t had time for the gym at all this week and he had to admit that it felt nice to use some magic. It’d been sitting stagnant in his soul; he’d been so exhausted that the gym wasn’t the only exercise he missed as well, collapsing into bed beside you and drifting asleep almost immediately. You hadn’t complained, not at all, but Sans did deeply miss your… normal evening routine.

He was determined to leave work on time for Thursday date night, no matter how much work he had to leave undone.

As soon as they stepped out of the void, Devon was there calling to them. He walked over and pulled you into a big hug, lifting your feet clean off the ground. You laughed as he set you back down and he moved over to give Mutt a hearty handshake. He approached Sans, but he didn’t touch him. Instead, he gave an enthusiastic wave. He remembered that Sans preferred not to be touched, just as he always did.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” Devon said. “It’s a weird one.”

“Love a weird one,” you said with a grin.

“I see that,” Devon said, gesturing to Sans and elbowing you good-naturedly. You laughed and Sans gave the required eye lights roll, though his soul wasn’t in it. He liked Devon, liked that he openly joked about your relationship with him. He didn’t avoid it, like a lot of humans, or point out how weird or even “wrong” it was. Sans would never say it out loud (because he’d have to discuss _feelings_ and he'd rather dust) but he deeply appreciated that. And, well, his use of the _l-word_ while describing your feelings towards him let Sans a little flustered as well. He knew you did, of course, you’d told him time and time again, just as he'd whispered to you, but to hear another say it...

“What are we looking at?” Sans asked, putting on his Business Tone before his blush could take hold on his face.

If he didn’t fool Devon, he was at least kind enough to not comment on it. From the twin smirks on his brother and girlfriend’s faces, he hadn’t fooled them in the slightest. “Well, this church has been here since the 1800s, when the Swedish settled this area. It’s been a cute little Lutheran church that whole time.” He led them into the small building. It certainly didn’t look intimidating; there were colorful posters on the walls advertising a zoo-themed children’s program, for the angel’s sake! But Devon continued, “Couple weeks ago, they started digging a new foundation so they could add on to the church and--” he led them through a second door that led to a hallway, clearly where the aforementioned digging had taken place. The floor was broken up, revealing a large pile of dirt. “--they found this,” Devon concluded. 

Sans stepped forward to investigate the hole and wasn’t totally surprised to find stone stairs leading down into darkness. Why did people insist on digging up things? It never ended well. 

You appeared at his shoulder. “What’d they find down there?” you asked.

“See, I dunno,” Devon said with an animated shrug. “My buddy, Kale, called me and asked if I’d preach this week. When I asked why he just said he couldn’t go back in because  _ they _ were trying to take his soul.”

You groaned. “It’s gonna be zombies. Or ghosts. Or ghost zombies.”

“Please,” Sans said, “if it were zombies we would have reports of people being bit. And what even is a ghost zombie?”

“You’re gonna regret saying that,” Mutt said. “Someday we’re gonna have to fight a ghost zombie and she ain’t gonna forget you said that.”

“Ghost zombie is a redundant concept,” Sans doubled down. “Now, let’s do our jobs, shall we?” Sans fiddled with his earpiece, which he kept in his auditory canal at all times. It didn’t bother him like yours did you, so it seemed silly to ever remove it. The thing whirred to life with a small buzz as you slipped yours into your ear. “I requested that Red run coms for this mission since Stretch is unavailable. Red, can you hear me?”

“Sorry, bud, Red had to go cause a lil chaos,” an unexpected voice answered. “You’re gonna have to settle for little ol’ me.”

“Comic?” Sans asked.

“Is everything okay?” you asked quickly. “Did something happen with Stretch? Is that why Red--”

“Everythin’s fine,” Comic said. “Stretch is givin’ nurses hell; I’m sure they’ll cut ‘im loose soon. It’s just a little infection. You know he’ll be ok. Stretch’s a tougher guy than y’all give him credit for.”

“I once heard him scream like a little girl ‘cause one of ‘is chickens snuck up on ‘im,” Mutt drawled.

Comic chuckled. “Well, he’s not about to dust from a lil’ infection, ok? And Red does have other stuff to do besides babysit his bro.”

“Does he, though?” you wondered aloud.

“Can we please get back on track?” Sans said, allowing all of his exasperation to filter into his voice. “I, for one, would like to get to sleep tonight.”

“With how much you’ve been workin’, I wouldn’t think you’d wanna do much sleepin’ tonight,” Comic said with another chuckle, and Sans made a mental note to throttle his double the next time he saw him. Sure, Papyrus and Red would be cross if he killed him, but surely a light maiming wouldn’t hurt…

“Stop plotting murder and let’s get this show on the road,” you said, giving Sans a light shove towards the stairs. It wasn’t enough to move him by any means, but it was enough to catch his attention. 

“I’ll be up here,” Devon said cheerfully. “Yell if you get murdered!”

“Will do,” you said, and the three of you descended the stone stairs. You flipped on your headlamp so that you could see. It wasn’t yet dark enough that Sans and Mutt needed lights; their superior dark vision was serving them just fine.

Not that there was anything to see, not yet anyway. It was simply a slowly spiraling staircase, leading deeper and deeper into the Earth. Sans was silently grateful that his and Mutt’s shortcuts extended further than those of the other skeletons; they were still well within range of the surface should something go wrong. He could feel the aura of discomfort that his brother was giving off as they descended deeper. Sans suspected that few monsters would be happy to head underground in any capacity, but he knew his brother struggled with it in particular. He’d always hated the dark, hated small enclosed spaces, and since his trip to the void, he’d been even jumpier about it. Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring Mutt with them; surely they could have left him on the surface with Devon? He just needed a good reason to send him back before he got a panic attack…

“‘M fine,” Mutt said as if he could hear Sans’s thoughts. Maybe he could; Mutt had always been more perceptive than others gave him credit for.

“I’m not,” you said gravely. Both brothers turned towards you to ascertain what was wrong with you, perhaps your shoulder was acting up? You hadn’t said anything about it since Papyrus healed you after the painting incident, but there was a chance… But you were grinning a little. “This is boring,” you said in your best whiney voice. “When’re we gonna find the g-g-ghosts?”

The tension in the atmosphere snapped immediately and Mutt chuckled. Sans would never stop being grateful for you, he realized distantly. He let the chatter wash over him, your bright voice melding with Mutt’s deeper one, and even the occasional rumbling quip from Comic over his earpiece. Things were good here, in this ‘verse, even on nights when there was too much paperwork. His brother was better here, hardly the terrified mess that was even frightened of Sans back home. Sans was better here, too; he didn’t have to go hunting for weak monsters that wouldn’t be missed because he needed to get his LV up and fast to protect what was his. He didn’t need to bow to insane dictators that would just as soon kill him as look at him; this world’s king had LV, of course, but he’d never even dirtied his fur by killing human children. The barrier had broken from the outside, and you played a part in that, too. It was no wonder his people had still been trapped under the mountain when the universes collapsed, Sans thought bitterly, nor that Edge’s people were. He wouldn't be surprised if those universes would have never made it to the surface; Fell monsters just didn’t deserve the sun.

But these few got to have it, and perhaps it was his Fell nature that he was selfish enough to never give any of it up: not the sun, not his brother, not his new cobbled-together family, and certainly not  _ you _ . No matter how much you deserved someone far better than him, you wanted  _ him _ , miracle of miracles, and he would cling to that for as long as you’d let him.

Wow, this staircase truly was ridiculously long.

Finally, the three of you approached a stone archway. There were symbols carved into the stone and you paused to examine them. Your brow furrowed in concentration in that cute little way you always did. Sans had to dismiss the desire to kiss you on your forehead; you would hardly appreciate it just now.

“Rot ro, Raggy, rot is it?” Mutt said in a dumb voice. Sans blinked at him.

“Well, Scoob, I think it’s Swedish. It’s saying a bunch of weird stuff about life and death? I think it might be a Bible verse, too?” you said.

“Scoob?” Sans asked incredulously.

“You dumbass,” Mutt said affectionately. “Were you thinkin’ about how much ya love us instead o’ listenin’ again? Missed the whole Scooby-Doo convo?”

If Sans blushed a little, you certainly couldn’t tell in the dark. “No, I was thinking about how you have no shame and would of course let yourself be referred to by a cartoon character’s name, Papyrus!”

Mutt just laughed and ignored Sans. “Y’all gonna go in?” Comic asked in Sans’s earpiece. “Just askin’ cause I’m due for a nap soon.”

“Yes, yes. Ready?” Sans asked his little crew. You both nodded, so he stepped forward through the archway…

… Into a graveyard? “Huh,” you said. “A secret graveyard disturbed after years of rest. I’m sure that’s fine.”

The three of you spread out to explore the graveyard. The stones were very old, clearly from before even the 1600’s old, and the text on them was nearly indecipherable, both from age and from the fact that Sans did not read Swedish. He could read numbers, however, and he was noticing a pattern. “All of these lifespans are very short,” he said.

“How short?” Comic asked.

“Short like you an’ Blue,” Mutt said silkily.

“Own it and bone it,” Comic replied good-naturedly. The two non-Fell and non-cannibal versions of Sans were at least a head shorter than their counterparts, a fact that Sans was grateful for as it put him at about average height for a human male and a few inches taller than you. Not that height really mattered, of course, but it was still nice not to be grouped in with the “shorties” of the family too often. 

“Short like a few years at most,” you said softly, sadly. “This is a child graveyard.” That fell heavily on all of them. “There have to be over thirty graves here,” you said. “What… What could have happened, that they would need this?”

“There are exactly 42 graves,” Sans said unhelpfully, but you were right. The years didn’t span a long timeframe; most of these children died in the same year, in fact. “Is it common for children to be buried together like this?”

You shook your head. “Far as I know, humans tend to bury the kids with their parents. I dunno why they’d bury them in their own place like this, especially underground like this.”

Sans was going to continue the conversation with a completely reasonable question, probably, but he was cut off by a cry. It sounded like a baby.

“Shit!” Mutt growled and backed against the wall, magic sparking at his fingertips.

“Ghost baby!” you suggested, your fingertips also glowing.

“Fine, fine, but how do we identify which--” While Sans was speaking, the cry grew louder, followed by pattering feet. Then, the sound of childish laughter rang through the room, perhaps in an attempt to drown out the crying.

The three of you naturally congregated near the exit, each sparking magic. “Whole bunch of ghost babies,” you said, your voice low. 

“Why do I get the feelin’ there’s exactly 42 ghost babies?” Mutt groaned. “‘S just creepy!”

“You want creepy? We’re gonna have to dig this whole place up and salt and burn all the bodies!” you hissed at him. “Stupid freaking ghosts.”

“Just a bit ago didn’t you want to find some, I believe it was, g-g-ghosts?” Sans asked.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead focusing on scanning the room. “They don’t seem to be corporeal, so that’s good at least.”

That _was_ good. Dealing with ghost alliumedes was much easier when they couldn’t take a form to attack you with. Sans sighed. So much for getting any sleep tonight. “Fine. Mutt, will you please teleport up and ask for shovels? Eleanor and I will--”

A crashing noise cut him off. The room fell silent except for your breathing next to him. Sans scanned the room and then, “There!” he said pointing to the far back of the graveyard. There was movement of some kind. What was that?

The room was filled with crashing noises, graves collapsing en masse. Sans was not ashamed to say that he jumped at the noise, but he knew he wasn’t the only one startled. Mutt shot a bone attack into the ceiling and a purple shield shot up in front of the three of you.

“Those aren’t ghosts!” you said, and Sans looked where you were gesturing. You were correct, of course, the things approaching your shield certainly weren’t ghosts. They were horrific, however, even to a skeleton that had no particular fondness for human children. They were only partially corporeal, with an ethereal quality to them, but they also had flesh hanging off of them, their bones fully exposed in some places. Many of them were darkened like they had been burned; others were missing body parts or even their heads.

They were shambling towards you, oddly reminiscent of the zombie horde that you and Sans had faced in the early stages of your team working together, but they clearly weren’t zombies, what were these…?

“Revenants!” you declared triumphantly. “These are revenants! Specifically dead-child revenants!”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar,” Sans admitted.

Though your shield was taking a bit of your concentration, you still spared him a grin and a glance. “They’re ghost zombies.”

Sans had to resist the urge to facepalm, instead channeling all of his control into asking evenly, “Dare I ask you to explain more?”

“Dare. You’re a brave guy.” You smiled at your own joke but grimaced again when you looked at the horde in front of you. “They’re from Nordic mythology. They’re babies and kids that died before receiving baptismal rights and came back to roam the world until they receive the sacraments.”

“They want to be baptized?” Sans asked dubiously.

“Yeah,” you said. You looked a little disgusted. “There was an old mage rumor that there was a cursed church somewhere in Ebbott, ancient by even our standards, that sort of combined Catholicism and, like, weird occult stuff? I heard that the Council actually intervened and put them down because they were doing such heinous stuff.”

“Such as…?”

“Such as sacrificing children from the local indigenous populations.” If Sans had a stomach it would have turned at that declaration, but you weren’t finished. “I heard they took mage kids, too, if they could get ‘em. It’s why… It’s why there’s not a ton of Native American mages. A lot of them were hunted down.” You fiddled with your hair, a tell that you were uncomfortable. “I… I didn’t know that these particular rumors were true. These kids have been down here for centuries! They’ve been down here longer than I’ve been alive, and that’s really saying something.”

“We’ll help ‘em,” Mutt said softly.

“Of course we will,” Sans said. “You said that they needed the sacraments? Will that bring them peace?”

“Yeah, should. I guess being sacrificed by a pseudo-Catholic church bound them to this graveyard until they got all the Catholic stuff? I don’t know.” You looked like you might cry.

“Well, good thing you’ve got a priest right upstairs, ain’t it?” Comic said in the earpiece.

“You want us to bring Devon down here?! It’s dangerous,” you said, but you sounded desperate to be convinced. “We could… We could just seal this back up. I don’t think they can leave. I think the archway holds them here. They’re not a danger.” 

“We are not doing that,” Sans said firmly. “We are not leaving these children to suffer for eternity because a cult decided to sacrifice them. We are going to let them rest.” He stepped back through the archway. “Devon will be fine. We will keep him safe.” You opened your mouth to say something, but you snapped it shut before you did and nodded at him. “Mutt, will you teleport up and grab Devon?” Sans asked.

Mutt looked away and shuffled his feet. What…? “Why don’ you go get ‘im?” Mutt asked. “Scooby shouldn’ leave Shaggy with the dead ghost baby zombies. ‘Sides he trusts you more.”

There was something there, something Sans would have to address later, but for now, it seemed best to get this over with as quickly as possible. “Very well. I’ll be right back.” Sans popped in and out of the void, appearing in the hallway Devon left them in. Devon jumped when Sans appeared but recovered quickly.

“How’s it goin’ down there?” he asked.

“We are in need of your help, actually.”

“How so?” Devon asked.

“We found the source of the problem. There’s an ancient graveyard full of… They’re called revenants, and they are there because they died without receiving the sacraments.”

Devon blinked at him. “This ain’t even a Catholic church.”

“Apparently the one underneath it was some sort of Catholic-occult hybrid.” Sans paused. He didn’t want to tell Devon the unpleasant truth, but he would see it for himself soon enough. He didn’t allow himself to be unsteady as he plowed ahead. “They sacrificed children and apparently bound them to that graveyard. There’s still down there, unable to move on.”

Devon looked appropriately horrified. “Lemme get my stuff.”

***

Four teleports later, Sans and Devon appeared just behind the stone archway. Sans did not pretend to know what any of the things Devon picked up from his office were, but he recognized holy water, a rosary, and a purple sash he’d seen Devon wear before. As much as he liked the priest, Sans had little interest in learning about Catholicism, those items would likely remain a mystery to him. Although, he was familiar with holy water from his work in the Paranormal Security department. In fact, Devon was the one that supplied your team with their holy water.

“Holy crap on a cracker,” Devon whispered.

You looked up from where you were sitting on one of the steps. You and Mutt fell back behind the archway and were watching the revenants bumping up against the invisible barrier that the doorway created. Unfortunately, the archway didn’t prevent sound, so all of the manic laughter and crying echoed up the stairs. You jumped to your feet when you saw Devon. “Hey, it’s, uh, not as bad as it looks?”

One of the children towards the front ran into the barrier particularly hard and everyone watched in horror as its head popped off.

“Okay,” you said weakly, “it’s exactly as bad as it looks.”

“We gotta go in there?” Devon asked. You nodded. “Is it dangerous?”

“Yeah, probably,” you admitted, “but that’s why the three of us are here. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you, beyond the serious mental scarring that’s probably occurred already.”

Sans placed his claw on Devon’s shoulder and the man jumped. “You don’t have to do this,” Sans said kindly. “They aren’t a danger to anyone; they can’t leave that area.” 

Devon looked at Sans, his jaw slack. “You suggesting we leave them down there cause I got the jeebies? No, I’m just trying to figure out exactly what they need to rest. Are any of them of confirmation age?”

Thankfully, you seemed to know what the hell that meant. “I don’t think so,” you said. “Their stones all seemed to indicate that the oldest are toddlers.”

Devon nodded. “So baptism and maybe Viaticum.” You blinked at him and he sighed. “Last rites?” You snapped at him to indicate that you got it, and he nodded. “I need to be able to sprinkle the holy water on ‘em and recite the texts.”

Sans eyed the archway. There was no way they’d be able to wade through that without losing their limbs. “My dear, do you think you can push them back with a shield, give us some time to get in the room?”

“Sure,” you said.

“Excellent. Mutt, you create a distraction while Devon does his thing. I will stay with him in case he needs a quick teleport. El, you will survey the room from a fairly neutral location, ready to throw a shield over myself and Devon or Mutt, depending on who needs it.”

“And what do I get to do?” Comic asked. “Put me in coach; I wanna play!”

“You get to make sure no unexpected visitors reach the stairwell and make their way to us,” Sans said. “Does Stretch have cameras or scanners in this area?”

Comic laughed. “Between Stretch and Red, we got alla Ebbott bugged. I’ll watch ya back.”

“Very well,” Sans said. He turned back to his small team. “Is everyone ready?”

You and Mutt both confirmed quickly, but Devon hesitated. Sans politely gave him a moment. Before long, he nodded and squared his shoulders. “Ready.”

You stepped in front of the group and took in a long, slow breath. You let it out equally slowly, and a shimmering purple shield appeared. If the scene wasn’t so horrific it may have been comical; the large purple shield pushing dead-child revenants back like they were inside of one of those arcade machines that pushed coins forward. “Okay,” you said.

Sans placed a hand on Devon’s shoulder and guided him through the archway. The instant he did, Devon nearly doubled over. “What…” he gasped. “What is wrong with this place?”

Sans looked down at the human in surprise. You sometimes reacted to places like this, when you were feeling allimagic that no one else could. Perhaps Devon could also feel it? A question for another day. For now, he wanted to get his team out of that place as quickly as possible. “Are you alright?” he asked Devon softly.

Devon gulped in air then stood back up. “I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

Mutt was already on the other side of the room yelling and otherwise creating a general distraction. It was effective; the dead-child revenants had about the same attention span of your average child, Sans figured, and average children found Mutt infinitely hilarious and fascinating. Probably they could sense one of their own.

You stood at the center of the room, hands extended with one towards Mutt and one towards Sans and Devon. Sans was pretty sure your eyes were flashing purple like your magic while you stood ready. He found it oddly endearing, truly beautiful.

Beside him, Devon began the process. He was reciting something. Sans wasn’t particularly listening, instead keeping an eye on the horde before them. They were still more interested in Mutt than them, but it wasn’t as if he wanted them to be overly interested in Mutt either. It’d just be embarrassing to be ripped apart by a bunch of dead children, and he wouldn’t put it past Mutt to bring shame on the family like that.

The distraction did very well until Devon reached the portion of the ceremony that required the holy water. He began throwing it at them, which not only attracted their attention but also seemed to anger them. Before he knew what was happening, they were shambling towards him and Devon. He backed the priest up protectively, but Devon seemed so wrapped up in his ceremony that he didn’t notice. The children were still coming. “Eleanor?” Sans called out.

“Give it a sec,” she called back. “He’s about done!” You were right, of course. Devon gave another flick of holy water and stopped talking. Nothing seemed to be happening yet, but he had mentioned a second ceremony they would need. A purple shield flared up in front of them at the last moment, a child slamming into it as it reached for Sans.

“Looks like they do need Viaticum,” Devon said dryly.

“Mutt!” Sans called.

“Yeah, yeah, I got ‘em. Hey! Over here!”

The group turned away from them, giving their attention to the large skeleton that was standing on one of their graves and waving his arms. He was so tall that way that he had to duck his head a bit to avoid scraping it on the ceiling. Mutt hopped down and darted to the side, leading the group of children after him. Devon began talking again and Sans watched.

“Hey, someone’s comin’ down there,” Comic said in his earpiece.

“Someone?” Sans hissed.

“Some kinda human man? How do I know?”

“Can you run some sort of camera recognition?” Sans ground out.

“Sure, but that takes time, and this guy’s bookin’ it.”

“Mutt!” Sans yelled. 

“Yeah?” Mutt asked as he sidestepped a set of grabby little hands.

“Teleport upstairs and figure out who Comic is talking about.”

It could be argued that Mutt was quiet because he was dodging more children, but Sans suspected that there was more to it than that. He simply waited for some sort of response. Eventually, Mutt stammered out, “Wh-what if you go? I’m, uh, pretty busy! Down here? An’ you’re better at talkin’ to new folks, so! You should go.”

“I can’t leave Devon,” Sans responded as patiently as he could.

“Or! El could go? She, uh, looks human. Probably be less intimidatin’ for whoever it is than a big spooky skeleton?”

“El can’t teleport,” Sans pointed out.

Later, Sans would blame himself for distracting Mutt while he was dodging. Sans knew the conversation was upsetting his brother, though he couldn’t figure out why, and he couldn’t resist the urge to poke at him a bit, nevermind the fact that Mutt was a far less useful team member if he wouldn’t teleport anywhere. None of that mattered, though, not really. Sans knew better than to frazzle his brother in a fight and it was so obvious to anyone paying attention that Mutt was frazzled. He was stammering again, by the angel!

It only took one misstep for Mutt to fall. He staggered on a rock while trying to dodge one of the headless corpses and he fell forward, smacking his skull on a gravestone. There was immediately so much marrow, trailing everywhere, and it sent the revenants into some sort of frenzy. Mutt wasn’t unconscious, but he was dazed, scooting back from them on his rear as they advanced much more quickly than before. 

Sans was moving to teleport before he knew what happened, his soul clenching in terror as he reached for his brother. You were faster on the draw, though. Mutt was immediately bathed in shimmering purple and the children stopped short of reaching him. He looked up, clearly confused, but you were holding steady. “You’re okay,” you declared, one hand extended out towards Mutt. “You’re fine, Scooby-Doo.”

Truthfully, Mutt wasn’t okay. Marrow was pouring from his face and, though Sans couldn’t see where it was coming from, it was a lot. A check told him that his HP only had about 15 points shaved off, so he wasn’t in danger of dusting, but he certainly wasn’t  _ okay _ . But he seemed to believe you. He chuckled a bit and said, “Ranks, Raggy.”

Footsteps on the stairs drew Sans’s attention because of course they couldn’t catch a break. He turned to see a small human man with sandy blonde hair and glasses. And black magic wicking at his fingers. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice a bit nasally.

“Cleaning out a basement, what does it look like?” you snapped without taking your eyes off Mutt.

“It looks like you’re trying to lay these children to rest.” His voice was icy. “I’m sorry, but I must ask you to stop.”

“Wait,” Devon said, turning around quickly. “Kale? Buddy, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Kale Angerman,” Comic said into the earpiece. “He’s the pastor o’ this little flock.”

“Wait,” you said, “Angerman? There used to be a mage family, the Angermans. They disappeared centuries ago.”

Kale laughed. “Disappeared is a strong word. Were slaughtered for our beliefs, now that’s a bit more accurate. Besides, disappearing implies that there are none of us left. There’s one Angerman left, one that survived the slaughter.”

“What’re you on about?” you asked, but Sans didn’t miss the strain in your voice. They needed to finish this.

“I’m sure they told you that they stopped the ancient church here, said we were evil. We were just doing what needed done! You can’t imagine the power that comes from this place!” Kale said. “So much raw energy, trapped and ready to be used by someone who understands, someone with real power.” Kale laughed. “I’ve been biding my time, waiting for my chance. I knew when the monsters emerged and the mages simply let them that it was time. The Council is weak! We need a leader who is strong, who is willing to do what needs to be done!”

“Oh for goodness sake,” you groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been using the power of dead babies to enhance your magic and now you’re going to try to use it to overthrow the Mage Council.”

“Not right away,” Kale said. “First, I have to get rid of my competition.” With that, he shot a black blast of energy towards you. You yelped and dodged, managing to both avoid the attack and hold the shield. Kale walked forward towards you. “When I heard that you were back in Ebbott, I knew that you were someone that I’d have to reckon with. Your parents may have been dirty traitors, but they were powerful.” He shot another blast at you, which you dodged. “I certainly can’t have you around while I plan my coup.” Another blast, another dodge. “It only makes it easier that you are some sort of monster lover.” He spat at you when he said that like he’d said something dirty. “You disgust me.”

You laughed. “Well, I gotta tell you that I’d rather be a monster lover and a traitor than a dude who harnesses the power of trapped babies.” Kale closed the gap between you and grabbed you by the front of your shirt, lifting you clean off the ground. “Also, there’s a few things you should know before you kill me.”

“What’s that?” 

“First, my parents weren’t traitors. They were right and everyone recognizes that now. Second, I am a proud monster lover. Super in love with that skeleton over there. Like, head-over-heels. You wouldn’t know about that, as I’m sure you don’t even have the capacity to love. And finally, you should never, ever monologue before you kill the hero. It’s stupid. Just gives them time to, oh I don’t know, finish the last rites for the dead army that you derive your power from, lay them to rest after centuries of misery, and for my super hot boyfriend to get in position to rip your skull off your shoulders. Like, just as an example.”

Kale reared back to launch an attack at you. Of course, he couldn’t because the army of dead children from which he derived his energy was gone, Devon having finished the sacrament while he was distracted by you. 

He also couldn’t because Sans was holding his hand in a bone-crushing grip. “I really do not appreciate anyone trying to harm my girlfriend,” Sans said coldly, the LV in his soul roiling hotly, screaming for him to murder this creature that would dare to touch what was his. “You’re going to want to let go of her before I do something you will regret.”

The mage was a coward. He dropped you and you landed fairly gracefully in a crouch. You didn’t move away like Sans expected you to, though. Instead, you took a calming breath and said, “On behalf of the Council of Mages, by the authority of Herlewin Akeldama, I hereby declare you an enemy of magekind and bind your magic until such time as you may plead your case before the Council or their proxy.” You touched his forehead and he growled at you. Sans tightened his grip, turning the growl into a pained squeak. Blood red shackles, the color of Red’s magic Sans observed idly, appeared on Kale’s wrists and ankles. They flashed once, twice, then disappeared, though the way he slumped seemed to indicate they were still there in a metaphysical sense. Sans let go of his hand and instead slipped his claw around the back of his neck and gripped him just tightly enough that it would hurt, but not enough to even leave bruises.

“Kale?” Devon said softly. “How could you do this?”

The mage laughed. “You know nothing, pathetic mortal.”

Devon shook his head. “Man, I thought you were cool. Lacey’s gonna be real upset that you can’t come over for dinner Tuesday.”

Kale stilled at that and gave Devon a curious look, but the human was already moving over to Mutt. “You’re hurt,” Devon observed.

“It’s nuthin’ Blue can’t heal,” Mutt said.

Sans had to tamp down his instincts to rush over and grab his brother and look him over, instead remaining where he was, holding the prisoner by the neck. He made eye contact with you and you nodded and made your way over to the skeleton.

“Let me see, Scoob,” you said, leaning over him. Sans could see you dabbing at something, then you sighed. “Well, the good news is that you’re not gonna dust.”

“And the bad news?” Sans asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“He knocked out a tooth.”

“Least we’re on the surface. Won’t have ta get a dumb gold one like Red.”

You laughed, and Sans felt a bit of tension ebb away. Everyone was okay, even if they were a little ruffled. “Are we ready to go?” Sans asked. “I would like to get this one into a cell and it sounds like my brother needs to go to the dentist. I told you your sweet tooth would cause you problems, Papyrus.”

“I hit it on a gravestone!”

“And why do you think it came out because of a simple gravestone, hm? Weakened by poor hygiene.”

“You!”

The whole group was laughing as Sans began teleporting you out. First, he took Mutt and the prisoner, trusting that Mutt could keep him from taking off while Sans teleported you and Devon. Then, the whole lot of you stepped outside into the cool evening air. Apparently, you’d been downstairs long enough that the evening sunlight had faded into bright stars. Devon offered to drive Mutt to the emergency dentist while you and Sans waited for prisoner pick up, so the two of you were standing alone in quiet for a few minutes.

Sans still had a claw on the prisoner when you sidled up to him and grabbed his other arm. “It’s beautiful,” you said, looking up at the sky.

“It really is,” he agreed.

“I’m just really glad you’re here,” you said softly like it was a secret. You stepped up and kissed his cheek. “We did a lot of good today, yeah? And you could’ve just told me to close the place back up and you didn’t. Thank you.”

“I don’t know what kind of  _ monster _ you take me for, my dear, but I wasn’t about to leave those children suffering.”

“I know,” you said with quiet confidence. “You’re a good man, Sans.”

Sans laughed at that in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” you said, but you lapsed into silence after that. Sans found he was content in that quiet, standing with you. He would be happy for that to last forever, he realized. He hated quiet most of the time, even to the point of playing music while he worked in his office, but this was different. This quiet felt safe, not choking. He was about to say that to you when he heard the tell-tale pop of teleportation behind you.

“This the fucker that was stealin’ energy from dead babies?” Red asked loudly.

"Sure is," you said, letting go of Sans's arm. "Man, you missed ghost zombies! Ghost zombies!" The quiet from the moments before faded, replaced with your laughter as you described the whole adventure, choosing to make it funny rather than disturbing. Red laughed too and threw in several puns and soon, both of you were laughing while you worked.

Aw well. Sound is nice too, especially when it’s the voices of his family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary:  
> Friend of the team, Devon, who is a cool priest in Ebbott, calls the team in because one of his friend's churches dug up a weird stone staircase that leads into the depths of the Earth. It turns out that the staircase leads to an ancient graveyard created by a weird Catholic-cult hybrid that sacrificed children and trapped their spirits as dead-child revenants (ala Nordic mythology) in the graveyard and was destroyed by mages for their crimes. The team gets Devon to come perform the baptism and Viaticum sacraments to give the children rest. During the process, Mutt acts super shady about teleporting and hits his face on a gravestone, losing his tooth. The pastor of the small church turns out to be Kale Angerman, a mage that survived the destruction of the cult and wants to use the power of the revenants to overthrow the Mage Council. He wants to kill Eleanor because her family was powerful and also because he's a racist asshole. They stop him, bind his magic, and take him back to the Embassy for holding until the Mage Council can deal with him. Ellie and Mutt begin calling each other Shaggy and Scooby because that's cute. Sans is mentally a sap about his family pretty much the whole time.


	13. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A different point of view takes a look at our team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a weird one! I wanted to try something different and I didn't have any ideas for "Isolation" so... Ta da?

It is impossible to tell the difference between seconds and millennia in the darkness.

It wasn’t always dark here, you don’t think, but maybe it was always dark. There was a Before, you think, but that only comes back to you in vague snatches of memory, impossible moments that are too bright and too loud for your little pocket of silence and dark, but maybe there wasn’t a Before. Maybe there was always only Always, you just cannot be sure.

You didn’t ask to leave the Always, you are sure of that. You never, ever even considered leaving the Always. How could you, when the Always was the only thing that you knew, when you couldn’t rely on the Before? You couldn’t even conceive of an After.

But somehow, you left the Always and found your way into the After. It was too bright, too loud. There was light and sound everywhere, all of it trying to rip apart the new fleshy body that the After provided for you. In the Always you didn’t have a body, of that you were sure, but in the After you did have one.

It hurt, the fleshy body of the After. It ached, begging for things that you did not know and could not understand. It wanted to consume, yearned after all of the loud beings that surrounded you in their own fleshy bodies. You wondered if they had been in the Always too and were now also trapped in the After, like you, but you could not ask them. There was no sound in the Always; you had no idea how to make them understand you with these new fleshy grunts of the After. They seemed to understand one another often, but they never seemed to understand you. They never seemed to even acknowledge your sounds, as though you were not even there.

That was the worst part of the After. The beings made so many sounds, but none of them were ever for you. Somehow, these beings understood the After and they would not share their knowing with you. They would not help you with your hurt, would not tell you how to get back to the Always or how to soothe yourself in the After.

You Hated them.

You think that hate was the first thing you learned in the After, after Hunger. You did not know how you knew those words, how you understood that they meant some of the things that you Felt, but you did know. You knew and they grew. Soon, all you could feel was Hate and Hunger.

You began to understand that the other beings of the After would not come to you unless you called to them. The first being that heard you was called a Man, an Artist. He called you a Muse. You did not care what he called you, you only wanted to Feed. He filled the After with pictures and the other beings loved them, but each time he painted your Hunger lessened. His Soul could Feed you, you understood. The only way to reduce the Hunger was to Feed.

Eventually, your Hunger was too much for the Man. His soul disappeared into you and other beings took away his flesh. You wondered if he would go to the Always now, if perhaps the only way to get to the Always was to be Fed upon. After that, you tried to force a being to Feed on you, hoping to go back to the Always, but they never did. You always ended up Feeding on them, and they always went to the Always and left you behind, alone.

In the Always, you could not recognize Time. You did not know how long you were there. That was not true in the After. In the After, you felt every moment of your agonizing existence, your Hunger and Hate swirling inside of you begging for release.

Centuries passed and you found other Men, other Artists. They said they Loved you, that you were their Muse, their God. You did not care. You kept Feeding because they could not Feed on you. You sent them to the Always, and you Hated them even more.

The last being you met was not a Man, not an Artist. It was Something Else. It looked different, felt different than the other beings. It was hard where they were soft, but that did not matter to you. You still Hated it and you still tried to Feed on it. Somehow, the Something Else stopped you from Feeding, told you that you would no longer Feed. The Something Else was with a Woman, one with hands that glowed, and they asked you if you wanted to go back.

They described where they could take you and you realized it was the Always.

For one moment, your Hatred was replaced with Hope. Perhaps the Always was not gone. Perhaps you could leave the After. You tried to tell that is what you wanted, to leave, and they said you could. The Woman wrapped you in Glow and the Something Else held you.

You left the After. All that was left was the Glow, the Woman, and the Something Else. The Woman told you Goodbye and the Glow disappeared. 

You were in the Always.

The Woman and the Something Else were gone.

A new word, one you learned in the After that you always Hated settled into you. Home. You were in the Always. You were Home.


	14. Dimensional Traveller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans's breakfast surprise turns in a fiasco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one might be hard to read. I didn't mean for it to get so intense, but it was super cathartic for me to write. I don't know how to warn for it, but I'll do my best:
> 
> TW: Self-esteem issues, abandonment issues, description of a panic attack, description of a breakup 
> 
> Remember: These guys are always going to have a happy ending. No matter what it looks like, by the time it's all over they'll be okay. Traumatized a bit, maybe, but they'll be okay and together. I will never have them separate or kill off any main characters that you grow attached to. One of the most helpful things I've found is Keeleywolfe's BAON universe where she makes the same promise. It's become a safe place for me and really helpful when my anxiety gets too high. I want this universe to be a kind of spookier version of that. I guess it's kind of a spoiler to say that up top, but I would have needed to know this before reading this chapter so I thought you may too!

When Sans woke you up on a Saturday morning practically vibrating with excitement, you couldn’t help but be intrigued. When he said he had a surprise for you, you kind of thought he made a delightful breakfast, and maybe you two would eat it before finding a new place to desecrate his house. So, to say that walking into his kitchen to find some sort of Hot Topic advertisement sitting at his table playing with a cup of coffee was a shock was a bit of an understatement. You looked at Sans for an explanation and tried to reserve your disappointment for later. Maybe this person, like, had a platypus you could pet or something. You didn’t know.

“Eleanor! Meet Nora!” You stiffened at the nickname that you’d left behind years ago and you knew Sans wasn’t applying it to you, but shit it was weird to hear him say it anyway. The woman shifted and you froze in the middle of offering a perfunctory greeting. 

You knew that face. Underneath the heavy eyeshadow and plum lipstick (that was a fabulous color on you, actually) was  _ your _ face. There was a scar across her left eyebrow that you didn’t recognize and she had a few visible tattoos where you didn’t, but it was undeniably you.

“Hey,” she said. “So you’re this ‘verse’s version of me?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess I am.” You slid into one of the chairs and accepted the coffee Sans handed you. “So… How are you here?”

She shrugged. “I woke up in a shit-ass cabin with instructions ‘bout how to contact someone for help. Sans and Mutt came and got me and brought me here.” She smiled up at Sans and you did not like the way she grabbed his hand. You liked even less that he didn’t pull away right away, or the way his eye lights lingered on where she touched him.

“Sans,” you said, and he snapped to attention, “do we think her universe, what, collapsed? How is she here?”

Sans opened his mouth to speak, but Nora beat him to it. “The only thing I remember was this weird darkness, then a pulling, like something was pulling me here.” She placed her hand on her sternum. “It was like my soul was tethered to something here.”

Yeah, you hated that. “Huh. Is that how it felt when your universe collapsed?” you asked Sans, whose  eye lights were straight-up staring at her sternum now.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her when he responded, “Not at all.”

“So it’s something else.” You made a, frankly, heroic attempt to not punch Sans in the skull as you stood up. He was still staring. ~~_Had he ever stared at you like that?_~~ “Did you call Stretch?” you asked.

He seemed to snap out of a little bit. “No, no. I didn’t know yet what we were dealing with.”

~~_Do you now?_~~ But you bit back the dark thought and instead turned back to Nora, who was now staring at Sans. Excellent. “Babe, why don’t you go get Stretch?” you said. “He’s gonna need to do the voodoo that he do so well.”

“Of course!” Sans jumped to his feet. “We will go get Stretch. My dear,” he said to Nora, taking her hand in his, then pulling her tightly against him.

“There’s no reason to take her too!” you tried, but they were already gone, leaving you sitting alone at his table. You downed the rest of your lukewarm coffee, then moved around the table to clean up Nora’s cup. You scrounged through the fridge and found some leftover pancakes that served as a suitable breakfast. You heated them up then sat back down at the table to pick at them.

Exactly 38 minutes later (not that you were keeping track or anything), you heard the pop of teleportation. You looked up, expecting to see Sans, but instead found a haggard-looking Stretch. “Stretch?” you asked, honestly a little alarmed. He looked like he’d run a marathon with how profusely he was sweating.

“Ellie!” he said with false enthusiasm. “You’re right there! Just, right right there, huh?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think somethin’s wrong?”

“The fact that you look like you just ran a marathon and that you’re looking everywhere in this kitchen but my eyes. What’s. Wrong.”

He crumpled in on himself and sank into the seat across from you. He pushed your pancake bits out of the way so that he could grab your hands. “Listen, El, you know we all love you.” You didn’t say anything, terrified of where this was heading. “And you know that we would never have thought of hurting you.” He waited again like he thought you should say something, but he was the one who started this conversation and you had every intention of making him finish it on his own. He seemed to realize that and sighed, looking down at his hands. “It’s just… We don’t need two mages.”

_… what_. You even said it out loud to help him. “Nora,” he said and the hint of fondness to his voice made you cringe. “She’s a more gifted mage than you. Never had her life interrupted by all that... _unpleasantness_. You get it.”

“You’re… what? Firing me?” You couldn’t believe it. Surely you were mishearing or perhaps Nora was a siren, that would make sense, more sense than this.

“I’m sorry,” Stretch said, and he really did look sorry. “But it’s really for the best. This way, you can find something you’re better suited for.”

“Better suited…?” You swallowed. “Did you talk to Sans about this? Mutt? What about Asgore? He’s the one who hired me!”

“It’s all been approved.”

You slumped in your seat a little bit, oddly numb to the betrayal. Hell, it wasn’t your first one. It wasn’t even your least expected one. It just… You thought that you could trust them. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

But you were not about to make a scene over it, so you just nodded slowly. “Fine. When is Sans coming back?” You suddenly felt the desperate need to see him, to make sure that he wasn’t done with you too. You didn’t miss the way Stretch flinched like you’d just taken a swing at him. “Stretch?” you said, voice too soft. “Please.”

He didn’t meet your eyes. “Have you heard of soulmates?”

Of course you’d fucking heard of soulmates; you didn’t live under a rock. You also knew that it was a myth; there was no such thing as one other soul that resonated with yours in particular. Monsters and mages had done all manner of research into them, tried even to induce a soulmate-like condition in subjects. They didn’t exist. You didn’t feel like talking just now, though, so you simply nodded.

“Well, and you have to believe we didn’t expect this, it turns out that Nora… Well, she’s Black’s soulmate.”

You stared at him. Finally, you whispered, “Bull shit.”

Stretch sighed like a long-suffering teacher dealing with a difficult pupil. “Up until now there hasn’t been any evidence of such a thing, but it is undeniable that’s what’s going on here. Their souls are linked, El, and you don’t want to come between that.” You didn’t answer, so he kept talking. “Me and Sans, Comic I mean, think that it’s ‘cause she’s from Black’s ‘verse. Maybe their souls reach out to each other because they are the only ones from their universe, but there’s no way to test it.”

“Bull shit,” you said again, this time with more force. “If that’s why then you should all have the hots for your brothers. You got the hots for Blue, Stretch?”

Stretch’s face dropped into a stony stare. “Ya see,” he said, leaning back and releasing your hands, “this is why we like Nora better. She’s… Well, she’d never imply I want to get busy with Blue, for starters.”

“You’ve literally known her for an hour! How can you say you like her better? You’ve known me for years! We’re friends, Stretch!”

Stretch barked a laugh. “Do I, though? Not like ya ever tell us anythin’ about ya. Has Black even seen your soul?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but you couldn’t find the words. The truth was, Black hadn’t seen your soul. And yeah, it was a normal part of a growing relationship with a monster, but so was moving in together and you hadn’t done that either. He hadn’t asked about either, seemed to know that you weren’t ready to give up the house you’d just gotten back from the Council and your soul… Well… That wasn’t something you knew if you’d ever be able to show him.

Stretch shook his head. “Yeah, I was tryin’ to be nice about it, but you gotta go. This is all over.” You gaped at him, which got you a wintry chuckle. “Ya really thought we cared ‘bout you? We just needed a mage. Sans dated ya to keep ya around but, kid, we got a better model now. Her soul is basically perfect and she ain’t afraid to let ‘im see it.” He leaned forward a little bit, looking you straight in the eyes. “We don’t need you anymore. Got it?”

You didn’t really remember leaving Sans’s house, nor the drive home. The next thing you knew, you were curled up in a pile of cats, sobbing.

***

Two months passed, and you were no closer to figuring out what the hell happened than you had been the day Nora showed up in your universe. You’d talked to each skeleton, tried to make sense of the situation, tried to find one who hadn’t fallen under her spell, but they all told you the same thing: Sans had moved on, they had moved on, and you needed to move on, too. Jupiter, of all skeletons, hanging up on you had been the final straw. You hadn’t talked to them since early November, but you’d seen them. Impossible not to, really, if you lived in Ebbott.

Or, if you were trying to lightly stalk them to figure out how to undo whatever brainwashing Nora had done.

Your only saving grace seemed to be that they’d gotten lax in security since Nora came. You were absolutely positive that Sans and Edge would have noticed you perched in a tree across the street from Edge’s house otherwise. To be fair, you’d made yourself as difficult to see as possible. You were wearing all black--a pair of black boots, black leggings, and an oversized black hoodie that had been left on your floor the last time Sans stayed over--and you were hiding in one of the few trees that wasn’t draped in Gyftmas lights, your binoculars trained on the picture window with the curtains open.

~~Your whole~~ The whole skeleton family was inside, everyone laughing and exchanging gifts, and Nora was right in the middle of it all. She was perched beside Sans, his arm around her shoulders, and they looked truly happy together. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear and she laughed, then kissed him. You looked away from the kiss and forced yourself to stay focused. Tonight was your best shot at collecting the magic tracking devices you’d planted in the house at Thanksgiving. Holidays really distracted the boys and were the best time to get in and out undetected.

You slipped out of the tree and skirted the streetlights as you snuck across the road. The little path that led to the backyard hadn’t been shoveled and you knew that extra footprints would be recognized, so you summoned a shield just above the ground and walked on it. You just needed to sneak into the basement window and you should be golden.

You’d left the little window unlocked one afternoon while everyone was at work and no one had noticed. You hoped that was still the case as you knelt beside it and pushed on it. You used magic to catch any snow that fell in the window. Again, you had no doubt that Edge would notice melted snow beneath the basement window and would start asking questions.

You shimmied into the basement window and continued to use a generous amount of shield to keep you from actually touching the floor and you snuck over to the vent that led directly to the living room and contained one of the magic trackers. You palmed it easily and slipped it into the hoodie pocket. One down, two to go.

You shimmied back out the window and closed it carefully. Your next destination was tougher; the second-floor bathroom. It also had a small-rarely checked window. The bad news was that it was on the second floor. Luckily, the tree in the backyard had a bit of overhang near the roof. From there, it was just a matter of skirting the roof over the living room, climbing in the bathroom window, then making your way over to the guest bedroom’s window. Easy.

Just as before, you muffled your footfalls with shielding. You were pretty sure that footsteps on the roof would draw a whole group of skellies, and you doubted that they’d be looking for Santa. You avoided the roof directly over the living room anyway; it paid to be extra cautious with three former captains of the royal guard in there.

Shimmying into the bathroom window required more upper arm strength than the basement had, but you liked to think of yourself as pretty fit. After all, you had just spent a ton of time fighting alliumedes, and two months hadn’t put that much of a dent into your fitness levels. Especially when those two months involved a lot of clandestine spying.

You landed silently in the bathroom and moved towards the sink. The magic tracker was underneath it, up in the molding of the cabinet, somewhere that was unlikely to be discovered. You slipped your hand in and popped it out, sliding it into your hoodie pocket with the other one. Two down, one to--

\--The bathroom door opened, letting a rectangle of light from the hallway flood in. You moved before you even thought about it, backward, scrambling for the window. A soft ping indicated that you wouldn’t be going anywhere; someone had just turned your soul blue. You sank to the floor, shame rushing into your chest. They were going to think you were crazy, even it was for a good cause.

“Ellie?” your own voice asked cautiously.

Well, this was about the worst it could be. “Hey, Nora,” you said.

“What’re you…” she trailed off as she took in your black clothes, the binoculars hanging around your neck. “You were spying on us.” You didn’t say anything, so she moved over to crouch beside you. She was wearing a stupid Gyftmas sweater, one that you recognized because you’d bought it for Sans last year. “Honey, that’s enough.” Her voice was kind. “I know it’s hard, but you gotta let them go.”

You laughed bitterly. “I’m not letting them go so that you can… I don’t even know what you’re planning to do to them! But they’re my family, and I’ll kill anything that tries to hurt them!”

Nora sighed. “And you think I’m trying to hurt them?”

“It’s the only--” _explanation_ , you don’t say, but Nora seemed to hear it anyway.

“What do you need, to prove I’m not some evil being here to hurt them?” she asked.

“What?”

“Well, you were here for a reason, right? What do you need?”

You snorted. “You want to help me?”

“Well… Yeah. You’re kind of me? And I know how much it would hurt me to lose them.” You pointedly looked away from her when she said that. “So, I want to prove that this is legit. So you can move on and find your family.”

~~_I did find my family,_~~ you thought, but out loud you said, “Takin’ a peek at your soul wouldn’t hurt.”

Nora smiled at you. “Sure.” She took a deep breath then pulled it out, the pink soul filling the room with color. She pushed it towards you. “Optimism,” she told you as if you didn’t know the soul traits. “It used to have a lot of gray spots,” she gestures to a small one still visible on the side closest to you, “but they’ve been filling in since I’ve been around Sans.” You could see what she meant, little pot marks around her soul filled with a plum purple, the color of Sans’s magic. 

You finally looked away, a horrible realization crashing over you. She had a soul, a mage soul, it was colored and upside down, and that was a mage soul. She had your original trait. She was telling the truth, which meant…

_ Oh gods. _

You didn’t realize you were crying until you were pulled into arms and being shushed. You didn’t care that it was the alternate you, ~~_the one who took your family_~~ , holding you. You just needed to be held. You couldn’t breathe. She was telling the truth, all of it. They had chosen her over you, of course they had, look at her soul! Yours was… Well, yours was nothing like that, not anymore, not in a long time, and you couldn’t blame them for their choice, it only made sense after all. She had an intact soul, her soul trait was still optimism somehow. Hell, she even had a motorcycle and rocked all that eyeliner! And you were… You… You…

The pink light of Nora’s soul faded, replaced with bright fluorescent lights, and of course someone had come upstairs looking for her, how long had she been holding you? Didn’t matter, you owed them an apology anyway, and then you’d be gone. Wasn’t like you’d never packed up and moved before, not like you couldn’t again. Sure, this one hurt somehow worse than the others had, but you’d be fine eventually.

_ Too bad you could feel your soul cracking just a bit. _

“Eleanor?” Oh perfect. Of course the one who came to find you was Sans. Excellent, just what you wanted, his last look at you on the bathroom floor in his old hoodie crying yourself sick. 

He said your name again, but you didn’t want to look at him. You just… you weren’t ready. This time it was really over, really goodbye, and you didn’t want to. Knowing that you had to, that they wanted you to, didn’t make it any easier, nope not a bit.

Someone was shaking you a little bit, then harder. You finally determined that you had to look if only so they could get on with their Gyftmas. They shouldn’t be spending any of it with you, after all; they had each other and a better version of you to get to.

You shifted and were surprised to learn that Nora wasn’t holding you anymore; Sans had his arms wrapped tightly around you now. ~~_When did that happen?_~~ It didn’t matter, not really, except that now you’d ruined his shirt with your tears and he wasn’t even signed up to deal with your particular brand of fuckuppery anymore. “I’m so-so-sorry,” you managed.

He stilled for a moment, then pulled you tighter. “You have nothing to apologize for, love. It’s alright. You’re alright now.”

You pulled back to look at him because calling you "love" was a little too much now. You knew it was probably a habit, but he made it _very_ clear that he didn’t want you anymore; he certainly didn’t get to call you ~~cute~~ pet names anymore. You were about to tell him just that when your surroundings suddenly hit you.

You weren’t sitting on the floor of Edge’s upstairs bathroom.

You were on a cold tile floor surrounded by lab equipment. There was a metal table in the center of the room with an instrument tray beside it. The tray had been knocked over, scattering various types of syringes and scalpels across the floor. A computer off to the side with all kinds of wires coming out of it. One wire led to a helmet that was lying on the floor a few feet from you. It looked like a pretty important piece of equipment that had been haphazardly tossed across the floor in a panic or fit of rage. Sans was there, crouching on the floor with you wrapped in his arms, not wearing a Gyftmas sweater but rather his normal work outfit, then one he’d been wearing when he left your house that morning.

_Wait_ …

Mutt was there too, kneeling a little further away from you, looking like he was on the verge of a panic attack himself. He kept fiddling with something--oh those were your glasses--and his face was flushed. You peeked over Sans’s shoulder and saw both Red and Comic standing in the doorway, a doctor in a lab coat between them. Red had her by the scruff of her coat and the monster looked like she was about to have a complete breakdown.

“What happened?” you finally managed.

“It was an accident!” the pig monster squeaked, and now that you were looking at her you thought you recognized her. She worked for Alphys, didn’t she? And you were pretty sure that she had a couple of kids that joined Stretch for his Saturday experiments with the kids. Or maybe there were a lot of pig monsters and you didn’t know this one in particular…? You couldn’t be sure and your sudden pounding headache wasn’t making thinking any easier.

Everyone looked at the pig monster. Red gave her a little shake and growled, “How’s hookin’ someone up to a simulation an accident?”

The pig monster ( _Dr. Hueline_ , your brain supplied helpfully) looked to be on the verge of tears. “I just needed to show Alphys that it worked! She’d let me do more if it--”

“What’d it do to ‘er?” Red asked.

When Dr. Hueline shook her head and looked down at her shoes, Red’s left eye began glowing. “Oh, I can make ya tell me--” he snarled, but Comic put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hold on,” he said gently, then he turned to you. You remembered the conversation you’d had with him after Sans left you. He’d told you that you would never be a powerful enough mage with the way your soul was stitched together. You swallowed and looked away from him, trying to tamp down your fear. “Ellie… Do you know what happened?”

You tapped your fingers in the pattern of an old hymn you learned to play on the piano years ago, a centuries-old tic to help you concentrate. Now that you thought about it, a lot of what you remembered seemed… different. All of the stuff with Nora seemed so real at the time, but now it was taking on a kind of ethereal quality, like the worst dream ever. You thought hard, trying to separate out months of dream-like memories from the real ones. You stared at the floor, unable to bring yourself to look at any of them. “What day is it?” you asked finally, hoping that you could narrow it down from there.

“It’s Wednesday,” Sans said softly. “I stayed over at your place last night and we had omelets with the eggs that Edge and Stretch gave us. You had a ham, cheese, and feta omelet, and mine had vegetables from the garden and cheese. Then I left for work.”

Yeah, that sounded right. You remembered Sans giving you chocolate milk because that was your favorite breakfast drink, even more than coffee, and you preferred it on days that you didn’t have anything particular to do. You shut your eyes and focused on the feel of your mug in your hands, of the goodbye kiss Sans gave you as he rushed out the door.

“Your lunch,” you said. You opened your eyes and looked at Sans. “Your lunch was still on the counter so I decided to bring it to you. Figured we could eat lunch together.” For a moment, something very much like guilt flitted across Sans’s face, but it was gone before you could process it.

It was rushing back now. The security guard, a beaver monster, told you that Sans was in the labs doing a check. “Someday I’ll learn to just go to your office when they say you’re in the labs,” you said with a laugh. You missed the dark look that flickered over Sans, Red, and Comic’s faces and that Comic slithered into the hallway when you mentioned the guard sending you to the labs. “I… I don’t remember much else,” you said sheepishly.

_ Well, you didn’t remember much else that was likely true, anyway. _

“Sounds like it’s ya turn ta talk,” Red said to Dr. Hueline. She looked away from him and said nothing, causing Red to growl again. “Ya don’ wanna test me,” he said coldly. “Messin’ with my people’s bad for the lifespan.”

Dr. Hueline flinched at the threat, but you hardly noticed. Red called you one of his people. You wanted to pull him into a tight hug, but you knew he wouldn’t allow it, especially when he was holding a prisoner or whatever she was. 

“Lemme see ‘er,” Comic said, having ducked back into the room. “I’ll have to anyway once Asgore gets down here, and the kid deserves to know what happened to ‘er.”

Red nodded and Comic looked at Dr. Hueline. She squealed as Comic’s eye light began to glow a bright cyan with yellow flashing around the outside, a tiny supernova of color. He stared at her for a long moment before staggering back and rubbing his eyes. “Drugged ‘er,” Comic said, his voice slightly slurred. “She got the damn guard to send ‘er down to the lab next time she came to the Embassy, chloroformed ‘er, and plugged ‘er into the damn soul machine!” Comic was seething with anger, more anger than you’d ever seen from him. He pointed a shaky finger at her. “She’s tryin’ ta get the determination experiments goin’ again, wanted to prove ya could get it from any soul type, not just the determined ones. Figured a mage’d be a good place to start.”

Sans’s arms tightened around you so much that it was nearly suffocating, but you didn’t mind. His arms reminded you that he was here, that he still wanted you, that he wasn’t gone forever. 

“That’s not what it’s about!” Dr. Hueline blurted out.

“It ain’t, is it? Why don’ you enlighten us then?” Red asked.

“It… It’ll help so many monsters! If we can find a less concentrated form of determination, we can use it without risking--”

“Them turnin’ into amalgamates?” Red asked. “You’ve seen 'em, right? You’ve seen what happens when you fuck around wit’ people’s souls like that?”

“It would save so many,” she argued boldly. “Imagine if you didn’t have to worry about your HP, if we could cure it with--”

“I do just fine without one o’ my people becomin’ a lab rat!”

“It nearly killed her,” Sans said softly. “Her vitals were so unstable, her soul… You nearly killed her.”

“That shouldn’t have happened!” Dr. Hueline said. “The simulation is supposed to prevent that! It’s supposed to create a scenario where the patient feels safe and secure summoning their soul so that the collection process is safe and painless! She should have woken up and gone about her day not even realizing that anything happened! That’s what always happened before!” She snapped her mouth shut, realizing that she had said too much.

“Before.” Red’s voice sounded like what you suspected murder would sound like if it could talk.

“How many times have you done this?” Sans asked, horrified. “To how many people?” 

She seemed to decide that talking was preferable to having it ripped out of her, so she responded, “Only her, but… Just a few times, and obviously she was always just fine after! I never wanted to hurt anyone.” She looked at you frantically. “You haven’t had any pain, right? No side effects? And you’re helping! Your determination has already saved--” She cut herself off there, hands covering her mouth.

“Who?” Red snarled, but she didn’t answer. She just stared straight ahead, apparently done talking.

“I can read ‘er more after I juice back up,” Comic said wearily. “Let’s get ‘er outa ‘ere. Douglas may know more too; he may be interested in talkin’ to keep his pelt.”

Red looked over at you, then back at Dr. Hueline. He took in a deep breath and nodded. “We’ll let ya know what we find out,” he said. Then, he turned to Sans. “Take ‘er home and take care of ‘er, yeah?”

“Of course,” Sans said simply. Red nodded, and he disappeared, along with Dr. Huelin and Comic. That taken care of, Sans turned his attention to you. “Are you okay, love?”

You wanted to tell him yes, but, “Not really.” You shifted so that you could bury your face in his shoulder. He stroked your back, cooing softly. “What… What do you know about what I saw in the simulation?”

“Nothing,” he said. “All I know is that, when we burst in here, you were seizing on the table. Your soul was… It was cracking, love. And when you got you out of the simulation you were crying and calling for me.” He took in a shaky breath. “I am so sorry. I did not know you were down here. If Red hadn’t noticed that you signed into the labs hours ago and never came back up…” He trailed off.

“Ya gave us a good scare, Raggy,” Mutt said and you jumped a little. He’d been so quiet that you forgot he was there.

You blindly reached out and earned his hand in yours as a prize. You just wanted to stay like that awhile longer, surrounded by your boys, but you needed to know. “Did you see my soul?” you asked, too softly.

“I did,” Sans answered back, equally softly.

“Oh.” You felt a fresh wash of tears. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?”

You shrugged. “It’s not… You probably wish it was… better? Whole, maybe, and still all bright pink like it used to be--”

He interrupted you with a kiss. You squeaked quietly in surprise. It took a second for you to return it, filled with apprehension and confusion, but you wanted it and you needed it, needed to know he still loved you, that it hadn’t all been a lie.

“It was beautiful,” he whispered when he pulled away, and he sounded like he meant it. “Love, please believe me when I tell you that it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I, admittedly, didn’t have time to admire it like I would have preferred, with having to stop it from cracking and all, but it was absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous.”

“‘S real looker,” Mutt added. “If ya weren’t my bro’s girl and my bestie, I’d try to jump ya bones after that light show.”

You knew he was trying to make you feel better, and it worked to an extent, but you needed to know, “Does it bother you that I haven’t shown it to you?”

Sans paused for a moment to consider the question. “No, of course not,” he said finally. “I could just leave it at that, but I don’t think that is enough right now.” He shifted you so that he was looking into your eyes with his ungloved hands on either side of your face. “I’m a Fell monster, my dear; we don’t just rip our souls out and show to others willy nilly. I don’t expect you to do that either. If you ever want to show me your soul, sometime when you’re not being forced to, then I will be there, and if you never do, I will still be there. Besides, I am not sure I’m ready to show mine yet either. It’s not about how much we love and trust one another, I don’t think; it’s about so much more than that and we both know that.” He kissed your forehead. “Does it bother you that I haven’t shown you mine?”

You laughed. “Of course not!”

He grinned. “Then give me at least as much credit.” You couldn’t stand it anymore; you had to lean forward and give him a kiss. He accepted it gladly, holding you close, and you knew that you’d have to talk about this more, knew that you’d have to tell your therapist and that you’d likely have to do some work on the trauma you’d been through, but for now, you felt okay. You were with _your_ family and, right now, that was enough.


	15. Radio Signal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is up early and acting weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a brief depiction of a panic attack.

You liked to think that you woke up like a beautiful fairy princess, thank you, one who was graceful in all her decisions and movements. You’d actually known a few fairy princesses in your time and one of their innate qualities seemed to be that they _didn’t_ wake up squawking, their hair blinding them, and shoot off a magic attack as they fell from their beds. Pretty universally not how fairy princesses acted, far as you could tell.

You were sleepily grateful for both Sans’s natural dodging abilities and quick reflexes. He was able to both dodge the frantic magic attack you shot off and catch you before you hit the floor face first. After blinking the sleep away, you realized that he was shaking a bit. Had you scared him? You craned your neck a bit to get a look at his face and, nope, he wasn’t frightened. He was laughing, the bastard.

“You gonna tell me why you just popped into my bedroom at the butt crack of dawn?” you asked, not bothering to mask your irritation.

“I’m sorry.” He sat you back up on the bed and pulled the blanket back up over you a bit. 

You blinked in surprise as your two loveable fuzzballs arched up, puffed, and full-on hissed at Sans before running off. What...? His teleporting didn't usually bother them anymore, but it _was_ early. Maybe they were just as tired as you?

Sans blinked at the cats, totally nonplussed.

"What'd you do to our sons?" you asked, half-joking.

To your surprise, Sans didn’t answer. He was usually all about verbal sparring with you, especially about his relationship with your cats. Normally, they adored him; he even allowed you to refer to them as their father, complete with Father’s Day cards and novelty mugs and t-shirts. You were a freaking delight, and it was weird that Sans wasn’t having it today.

“Did you come back from work to define your relationship with the cats or…?” A quick glance out the window told you that he couldn’t have been at work long. In fact, you were surprised that he was already in his suit; normally, he went to the gym and then came back to shower, change, and eat breakfast before he left. It was a little dark for him to be totally suited up already. Besides, you didn’t feel him leave your bed when he got up, nor did you hear him come back in and change. 

Your confusion must have shown on your face because Sans explained, “I left very early. Lots to do at work today.” You narrowed your eyes. That didn’t sound _totally_ true, but fine. “I came back because we got a call. I wanted to get you and teleport straight over.”

“Oh!” you rolled out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. “What’s going on?”

“I received a call from New New Home. Blue said that Stretch is acting strange.”

“‘retch?” you asked around your toothbrush before spitting into the sink. “What’s wrong with Stretch?”

Sans shrugged. “It may be nothing. Blue simply said that he isn’t acting like himself and asked us to come check on him. Apparently, he keeps trying to tear apart his lab to build something new. He keeps mumbling to himself about it but he won’t say what it is.”

“Kooky. And Edge didn’t notice?” You would’ve thought Edge would be all up in Stretch’s business. He’d only been home from the hospital for a day and Edge had a nasty overprotective streak that rivaled even your own captain. 

“Edge went into work early to try to get some work done.”

You paused in the middle of braiding your hair and looked at Sans. Early is one thing, and you knew both of them were the “burn the candle on both ends” types but Sans leaving your bed early without saying anything? Edge going in while it was still dark out with Stretch freshly home from the hospital? Yeah, that didn’t track. “He went in early while Stretch was sick?” you asked slowly. Sans had been known to lie, sure, but he never lied to you. Never, not anymore.

Sans shrugged again. “He had work to do,” he said simply.

Okay. So gonna have to keep an eye on that. You decided not to confront just yet; maybe he and Edge had some LV they had to work off at the gym. Sans hated talking about that, all of the skeletons did, viewed it as a personal failure that they were from Murderville and had to kill to survive. Like humans and mages didn’t kill for much worse reasons literally every day.

You finished your greatly abbreviated morning routine and smiled at your skeleton. You’d pulled on one of his math nerd shirts that you swiped from his house. It didn’t escape your notice that he liked you in his clothes and they were comfy to boot. You gave him the ol’ flirty eyes and waited for your favorite violet blush.

But it never came.

Sans simply looked at you vacantly, then held out his hand. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“What? Uh, yeah.” You caught his hand and let him yoink you into the void, and that was weird too, he almost never just held your hand in the void, nearly always pulled you into an embrace, especially since Mutt got stuck there. Even stranger was that he let you stagger a bit after you stepped out of the void while he wiped his gloved hand on his jacket. You were about to ask him what the hell that was about when you heard a frantic cry and turned to see Blue bursting out of Edge and Stretch’s front door.

“Sans! Ellie! Thank the angel you’re here! I can’t keep him still, and Edge isn’t answering his phone, and I simply didn’t know who else to call!” Blue took both of your hands in his, bouncing agitatedly on his toes. He was the smallest of the skeletons, a couple of inches shorter than you and several inches shorter than Sans. 

“It’s no problem, Blue,” you said. “We’ll take a look. Sans?” He seemed to snap to attention when you said his name like he’d been daydreaming. He gave you a curt nod and then walked into the house.

“Is everything alright?” Blue asked cautiously.

“To be honest? I’m not sure.” You watched his back retreat into the house. “I, uh, don’t think I upset him? But he’s acting weird.” You tried to ignore the raw panic building in your chest. This was _Sans_ , after all. You _trusted_ him. He would _tell_ you what the problem was, _wouldn’t_ just leave you without an explanation. This was _something_ , but it surely wasn’t the _end_. The look Blue was giving you definitely didn’t help. Time for some backup. “Maybe I’ll just call Mutt,” you muttered.

It rang once, twice, then a sleepy, “Sans’d better be dustin’ if you’re callin’ me at this hour, darlin’.”

You laughed, a touch hysterical, and said, “I don’t know. Everyone’s acting weird. Stretch and Edge and Sans, they’re all acting freaking weird.”

A grumbling, then, “They’re always weird. Why’s this time different?”

“He… I dunno. Can you… I’m sorry, but can you just come? Over here?” You hated how small your voice sounded, hated admitting how much you needed Mutt to come over and see what was going on with his brother and convince you that it was okay. 

You shouldn’t have doubted him. When Mutt answered, you could hear the sleepy smile in his voice. “Anything for you, Raggy.”

***

The inside of the house was certainly not less confusing than the outside had been. The living room was a mess of wires and broken electronics, including the large screen television that usually adorned their living room. Stretch was in the middle of it all, picking up and disposing of wires at a disturbing pace, mumbling to himself as he did it. Sans was simply leaning against the arm of the couch watching him with a blank stare. When you and Mutt walked in with Blue trailing behind, he perked up. “Brother!” Sans said, both of his arms extended out like he wanted to hug his brother. Except that these two really never hugged...

“Ok, I see whatcha mean,” Mutt muttered to you before facing his brother. “Sans. What’s goin’ on, bro?”

Sans’s creepy smile dipped a bit. “Ah. You have not joined yet,” he said, almost to himself. He straightened his jacket awkwardly. “No matter. You will.” 

His hand motion was so casual that you were sure you wouldn’t have noticed it. Luckily, Mutt’s Murderville Skills were fantastic, not even touched by years on the (relatively) peaceful surface. He grabbed you and spun you around, blocking your body from Sans. You felt both Sans and Mutt’s magic clash, the room exploding in violet and black sparks. “You ok?” Mutt breathed into your ear.

“Fine. Let me go.”

You felt Mutt shake his head minutely. “Sans’s strong. Real strong. Only one who might be stronger’n ‘im is Edge, and even then Sans has higher LV. If ‘e wants to fight us, he’ll kill us.”

You felt bony hands grab you and you screamed, yanked backward into the void. You staggered to the ground and immediately threw up a shield, only to see that Mars was standing over you and Mutt. Blue was already climbing to his feet and dusting himself off “Mars?” you asked warily.

He trained his eye light on you, then flashed you a grin. “Don’ worry. I’m me. Baby Blue called me an’ I shortcutted in to see your bonefriend tryin’ to bone ya in a very different way. Grabbed ya an’ ‘ere we are.”

“Mars, just because you saved our lives doesn’t mean I want to hear your crude puns,” Blue admonished. “And stop calling me that; I’m the same age you are!”

“So anybody got any ideas ‘bout what’s wrong with my bro and Stretch?” Mutt asked from the ground. He was hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, holding his skull in his hands. You realized that his hands were shaking.

“Scoob?” you asked, kneeling beside him. “Are you okay?”

He took a shuddering breath before trying to nod. You rubbed his scapula soothingly and he took a few more shuddering breaths. You looked up at Blue and Mars imploringly. Mars shrugged at you, but Blue knelt down on his other side. “It’s okay,” he told Mutt softly. “I’m worried about my brother, too.”

You knew that wasn’t all of it, but you didn’t say anything. You hadn’t missed that Mutt hadn’t teleported a single time since his forced vacation in the void. You doubted that Sans and Stretch had missed it either, but no one was talking about it. Not yet, anyway.

Of course, that would probably change now that he was having a panic attack over Mars yanking him through the void.

“Seems like some kinda mind control,” Mars said eventually. 

“Yeah,” Mutt managed. “Sans was surprised I hadn’t joined ‘em yet, whatever that means.”

“But they did not say that to me,” Blue said, and you didn’t think you imagined that he sounded a little hurt about not being invited to the mind control party.

“Or me,” you added in, both because it was pertinent information and because you didn't want Blue's feelings to be hurt.

“So… Whaddya four have in common that the rest of ya don’?” Mars asked Mutt. “No one else is actin’ weird, least not as far as we know, so it must be pretty localized, yeah?”

“I dunno,” Mutt said. “There ain’t anythin’ I do with Sans an’ Stretch an’ Edge.”

“Is there somewhere they went together that no one else did?” Blue asked.

“Sans on a road trip with newlyweds?” you asked. “That’s adorable.”

Mutt finally managed to push off the ground and began pacing back and forth. “There’s nothin’!” he said.

“There’s gotta be somethin’,” Mars said.

“There’s not! ‘S ain’t like I hang around the lovebird an’ my bro! An’ anything I did with them, Ellie’d be there for!”

“Except your dumb listening parties,” you muttered almost to yourself.

Mutt stilled. “What?”

You looked up. “Well… You guys listen to that podcast together, right? The one that’s like a mystery show? They play, like, D&D or something?”

Mutt blinked at you. “Episodes of Escapades? Ya know ‘bout that?”

“Where did you think I thought Sans was going every other Tuesday? Didn’t a new episode come out last night?”

Mutt’s eye lights shrunk to pinpricks. “Yeah an’ I didn’t go to the party last night ‘cause I covered a shift at the bar. Told ‘em I’d listen after work so we could talk about it today, but I fell asleep.”

“That has to be it!” you said. “Who does this podcast?”

“It’s a set o’ three brothers in Northern Ebbott,” Mutt said. A pretty purple blush was flickering across his face, probably embarrassed at having been found out.

“Cool. I’ll drive.”

***

Your unusual team climbed into your Jeep and, after a small disagreement about the rules of calling shotgun, you were on your way. Northern Ebbott, while still technically part of the city, was nearly an hour from New New Home (unless you, uh, broke some speed limits) and was generally considered a more posh suburb of the city. It was also an area that was known for always being the last to agree to any pro-monster legislation, and you’d heard rumors that most of the protestors outside the Embassy came from up there.

“But,” Mutt explained over the roar of the wind from your Jeep top being down, “these guys ain’t like that. They’re funny, ya know? An’ they have all kinds o’ monster guests on, super pro-monster. Their campaigns don’ even look down on monsters like a lot o’ real play podcasts.” He nervously fiddled with the strings on his hoodie. “Ya’d actually prob’ly like it? If ya listened to it?”

“If I won’t do it for Sans, the literal love of my life, there is a 0% chance I’m gonna do it for you, Scoob. Sorry. But!” you said, “it’s great that you guys have a thing that’s your thing, ya know? I don’t wanna get in the middle of that. It’s cute.”

“Ain’t cute,” Mutt said. “‘S manly an’ tough.”

“Right, of course. Manly and tough.”

“Don’t gotta be condescendin’ about it.”

“No, it does sound very manly and tough!” Blue chimed in from the backseat. “If all of you Fell monsters like it, I am sure it is very manly. Probably full of lots of… patriarchy and swords?”

“Y’aren’ helpin’, Baby Blue.”

“Not you too! I’m older than you!”

You ignored the rest of the squabble and pulled the Jeep into a driveway that led to a reasonably-sized house. You were surprised; normally the houses out here were excessive, even by your “I’m a rich mage so I own a five-bedroom house for me and my two cats” standards, but this one was reasonably sized, maybe three bedrooms, with a cute little wrap around porch. You climbed out and glanced in the backseat where Mars and Blue were starting to climb out. “Uh,” you said. “I think you guys should stay out here.”

Blue looked hurt and offended while Mars just looked vaguely interested in your proposition. Luckily Mutt was prepared for them. “S’ just that you’ll be back up, ya know? If it gets us then someone needs ta know what’s goin’ on. Even if Sans were ‘ere we’d have Stretch to call in the calvary.” You didn’t miss the meaningful look that Mutt gave Mars, followed by both of them glancing at Blue. Mars nodded and crossed his arms.

“Sounds good. Didn’t wanna get my hands dirty anyway.”

“I…” Blue looked defeated. “Fine, but I will remind you that I was the captain of the royal guard in my world as well. I am more than capable of handling myself.” 

You were really proud of Mutt and Mars for not laughing at that declaration. You knew that the boys from the darker ‘verses tended to view the others as candy-coated and, though Blue had held the same position as Edge and Sans, they certainly believed they weren’t prepared to handle any unpleasantness. That’s what Fell monsters were for, according to them.

You sort of thought that if everyone could get over their martyr complex they’d be better off.

You and Mutt left the other two behind in the Jeep after handing Blue your keys. You weren’t about to let Mars drive your baby even in an emergency and it made Blue feel better. The front door was closed, but a quick glance in the window showed a human just standing in the entryway staring at the stairway off to one side.

“Creepy,” you whispered. “Hold on. I’ll pick the lock.”

“I can ‘port us in,” Mutt said softly. You looked over at him. He looked like he was about to fall over, his breathing turning to quick staccato breaths. His hands were flexing over and over like he was trying to grab hold of something.

“Nah,” you said easily, pulling your lockpicking gear out of one of the many concealed pockets in your coat. Pockets concealed by magic are the best. “You used up a ton of energy saving my ass from Sans--thanks for that, by the way--and who knows what we’re getting into. Don’t wanna waste magic when my lockpick’ll work just as well, yeah?”

You ignored the narrowed look that Mutt gave you while you went to work on the door. You had no doubt that he’d see through your utterly transparent decision to keep him out of the void, but you hoped he wouldn’t be offended by it. Clearly, he was still struggling with it, and, as someone who had a laundry list of issues as long as their arm, you understood trauma better than most. You had absolutely no desire to push Mutt to deal with it before he was ready. Plus, he’d be useless to you if teleporting inside gave him a panic attack or, worse yet, his reluctance somehow messed with the ability and stranded one of you there or something. Nah, better not to risk it.

The door opened quickly under your touch. Honestly, for all the great tech that the centuries brought, locks had only gotten worse. Back in the day, it was way harder to get into places you weren’t supposed to be. Now? Heck, barely even a reason to bother picking the thing; you could just kick in the plasterboard door. Just another reason to live in an old mage mansion; all of the doors were solid oak. And locked with magic, but that was beside the point.

The man continued to stare at you as you entered. “That’s Mason,” Mutt muttered to you. “He’s the youngest bro.”

“He seems… Uh, possessed?” you whispered back. Mutt shrugged, so the two of you continued in. A quick sweep of the first floor revealed nothing, so the two of you backtracked to the entryway to head upstairs.

The instant your foot touched the first stair, the human was shrieking and charging you. “Shit!” you yelped, throwing up a shield to prevent him from grabbing you while Mutt shoved him back with blue magic. 

“Seems like he doesn’t wan’ us to go upstairs,” Mutt observed.

“Ya think? How do we keep him down here? I can put up a shield but it’ll eat my energy.”

“Nah, I got ‘im.” Mutt stalked over to the human, then pulled off his fluffy coat and used it to tie the human up. By the time he was done, the human was sitting on the ground with his arms and legs bound by the coat. He stopped shrieking the instant you stepped off the stairs, so he just sat there and stared into space while Mutt bound him. Unfortunately, his silence only lasted until you touched the stairs again. The two of you were treated to a horrible soundtrack of human screaming as you scaled the stairs.

The top landing led to two different doors. With a shrug, you and Mutt split up. He headed to the left and you headed to the right. Your room was pretty nondescript; it looked like a typical human male's bedroom. There was a large bed in the center of the room, a wall of bookshelves that held books and collectible figurines that you vaguely recognize from Sans's secret collection, and several framed pictures around the room. Most of them contained three human men, one of which was the one you tied up downstairs.

While you were looking under the bed, Mason’s yelling stopped. The silence was absolutely deafening. “Mutt?” you called cautiously. “Scooby?” There was no response. Slowly, you made your way out into the hallway and into the second room.

Oh, _that’s_ where all the action was.

It appeared to be an office, full of all the equipment you assumed was necessary to create a podcast. Sitting at the computer was another human, this one larger than the one downstairs. You recognized him as one of the humans from the photographs, so you assumed he was one of the other two brothers. He didn’t look at you as you entered the room, and, quite frankly, he didn't hold your interest for long when you saw the rest of the room.

An alliumede had Mutt pressed up against the wall, its hand around his cervical vertebrae. He wasn’t struggling, wasn’t moving, was only staring into its eye. Large black headphones were sitting slightly cockeyed on top of his head, the speakers covering his acoustic meatus.

The alliumede itself reminded you vaguely of Undyne. It was certainly in the fish/reptile family of creatures, with dark green scales and “hands” that looked more like fins than Undyne’s did. It didn’t have her shock of red hair, but it did seem to share the same sharp teeth. Another similarity to Undyne was that it only had one eye, though this creature seemed to have been born that way. It wasn’t making any sound at all, just staring at Mutt.

“I’m gonna need ya to put my friend down,” you said, magic crackling around your fingers. The alliumede turned towards you but didn’t drop Mutt. “Fine. I tried asking nicely.” You summed a bubble-shaped shield that ballooned out between its abdomen and Mutt. It opened its mouth in a silent scream but flew backward from Mutt just as you expected. You skidded over to him and yanked the headphones off while it was distracted. “You okay, Scoob?” you asked.

Mutt looked confused for a moment, like he was trying to figure you out. Then, without speaking a word, he turned your soul blue and flung you against the wall. “You should not have come here,” he told you as he struggled to his feet and walked towards you.

Aw hell. “Mutt, _Papyrus_ , hey. It’s me,” you tried.

“I know.” Mutt lifted you up and slammed you against the wall again, his blue magic wrapping around your soul. You knew the feel of Mutt’s magic and this felt… Wrong. Like something else was using his magic, too. You suspected that if Sans had actually hit you at the house you would’ve felt the same way.

Headphones were shoved roughly over your ears. You wanted to struggle, but you couldn’t. Mutt’s magic held you down too effectively; you felt like you weighed a million pounds. “We have been taken over by an ancient evil,” a pleasant voice said in your ear, one of the brothers probably. “You’re going to be taken over, too. You should probably resist, though, because the evil wants to build some sort of radio tower so that everyone can hear its voice.”

“That’s right, Mason!” a second voice said. “Imagine, three brothers with a D&D podcast having our minds taken hostage by the very monster we invited to join us this evening!”

“But it wasn’t the monster, was it, Davis?” a third voice said. “Obviously, the monster was under the ancient evil’s control, just like we are now! So cool!”

You blinked. Wasn’t this supposed to be, like, brainwashing you or something? It had clearly brainwashed your boys and these humans so why were you still in your right mind? You tuned out the cheery voices and racked your brain for an explanation. Oh. Of course. Your magic. You shifted awkwardly and looked around. Your magic was especially resistant to allimagic because your gift let you see them for what they were. Probably, what you were hearing wasn’t what everyone else heard. You briefly wondered if the alliumede would realize you weren’t under its control when the headphones were suddenly yanked from your head. You looked up and saw Blue standing over you.

“Ellie, don’t listen to it! It’s trying to control your mind!”

You repressed the urge to roll your eyes and instead stood up as mechanically as you could muster. If you could make them believe you were under the alliumede’s control you could probably find a way to overwrite its control.

“Don’t worry! Mars figured out how to stop it!” Blue crooned.

Or, you could just let Mars handle it. That works too. You glanced over your shoulder at Mutt just in time to see him shoot a bone attack at Blue. Your soul lept to your throat but you weren’t quick enough to throw up a shield.

You needn’t have worried. Blue deflected the attack with ease, using his own bone attack as a club. He turned Mutt’s soul blue and brought him to his knees. You didn’t realize that your mouth was hanging open until Blue quirked a smile at you. “I told you that I could handle myself.”

“Message received,” you said emphatically.

Suddenly, the whole house was flooded with a cacophony of horrible sounds. You couldn’t pick out any individual sound, but the overall effect was terrible. You plugged your ears and tried not to yell at the sheer volume and mixture of noise. You weren’t the only one who didn’t like it; the alliumede was on the ground gripping its head and writhing. Mutt was screaming, as was the human at the computer. Blue didn’t look happy, but he kept Mutt from thrashing around too much with his blue magic.

After what felt like an eternity, the alliumede melted. Seriously. Like Wicked Witch of the West style melted into the carpet, leaving behind a black puddle. You’d seen that happen lots of times, but it was never because of loud noises. “‘S a siren,” Mars said behind you. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Guess it lost its voice and was usin’ the nerd podcast ta take over folks.”

“How’d you figure it out?” you asked.

Mars shrugged. “I listen to a lotta Lore an’ ya left me in the car with Blue. Googlin’ shit seemed better than talkin’.”

Blue tutted at him, but he looked slyly happy. Clearly, those two had bonded a bit on the whole adventure, which warmed your heart a bit.

After you managed to get all of the humans squared away, as well as their poor monster guest that had been shoved in the closet after its usefulness was over, you forced Mutt back in the Jeep (he was fine, a little embarrassed but not hurt) and the whole crew drove back over to the house. Mars and Blue made plans to listen to Lore together, while you tried to pretend like you weren’t listening to them.

When you pulled into the driveway, Edge’s car was parked there. The four of you cautiously entered the house. You were pretty sure that the control over everyone should have been broken when the siren melted, but it was possible that they were still experiencing side effects.

Opening the door revealed a houseful of very confused skeletons. Stretch was sitting on the floor with a half-built satellite dish in front of him. Edge and Sans were both on the couch staring at the coffee table like it had offended them. Upon inspection, you realized that there was a security radio from the Embassy on the table.

“Hey guys,” you tried.

Stretch scrambled to his feet and ran over to you, yanking you into a hug. “Ellie! Are you okay? I remember you coming here and… and… magic… and then you were gone!”

You laughed. “I’m fine Stretch. Mutt blocked the attack and Mars teleported us out of here. It was a siren and we beat it. That’s why you’re back to normal.”

“Normal’s relative,” Stretch said glumly, gesturing to his destroyed living room. “Gonna have to get a new TV and I drug mosta the lab up here.”

“I was a security threat to the entire Embassy,” Edge said softly, still staring at the security radio. “I was meant to take this to the siren. If I had, the Embassy would have been under her control.”

“Babe,” Stretch said gently, stalking over to sit by him on the couch and take his hand.

“Oh Pappy, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Blue said brightly. He ran over to his brother and clacked a kiss to the top of his skull. Stretch smiled up at him briefly then went right back to looking at his husband.

For your part, you didn’t miss that Sans was completely silent. Probably feeling guilt over attacking you and Mutt, as if that was in any way his fault. You sighed. This was gonna be a long night with these two. They both loved to martyr themselves and now they’d _actually_ done something bad for once. You were trying to decide how to navigate this particular minefield when you heard chuckling behind you. 

Mars was standing in the entryway, doubled over with laughter. “It’s just… You guys… Think you’re special enough to ignore a siren.” He wiped a few tears away. “‘S literally what they do! There’re whole epics ‘bout how no one can withstand ‘em! Like y’all are special!”

Mars’s inappropriate laughter broke the tension a bit. Stretch began laughing too and pulled Edge into a hug. “There ya go, baby love. Even you can’t overcome a being of mythical powers.”

Edge leaned into the touch. “I suppose you’re right.” He looked around the living room. “Well, I suppose siren control is as good a reason as any to call in. We have a good deal of cleaning to do.”

“And we gotta go TV shopping!” Stretch said excitedly.

Good. That was one couple cared for. You approached Sans slowly like he might startle. Maybe he would. He looked so fragile at that moment, sitting with his back stiff and staring at his gloved hands. He didn’t look up at you as you sank onto the arm of the couch beside him. “Hey there,” you said softly.

“Hello.”

You forced yourself not to sigh out loud at that. “Wanna go home?”

“Yes, I’ll just teleport over. I will see you--”

“Wait, no, sorry, I meant wanna go to my home.” That got him to look up, a violet flush crawling across his face. “I mean, you left super early this morning and, if Edge gets to call in for this, you certainly do. Mutt can come over tonight too and we can have pizza.” _And you can be sure you and I are okay,_ you didn’t say out loud.

He shifted awkwardly, then finally said, “I am not sure that’s a good idea.”

“At least ‘port me home. Please? I’m too tired to drive.” That wasn’t entirely a lie, plus your whole back hurt from Mutt slamming you into the wall. You had no intention of ever mentioning that, though. Hopefully, he didn’t remember, and if he did, he would have to bring it up himself.

As expected, Sans was unable to resist a direct request like that from you. You tossed your keys to Mutt. “Drive it over later tonight? We’ll have dinner, pet some cats, and play some video games?”

He caught the keys and nodded at you. You smiled. “Alright, cats and kittens, I’ll see y’all later, okay? Anyone that wants to can come with Mutt for hangout time at my place later tonight.”

Everyone bid you farewell, then you wrapped your arms around Sans’s neck. He couldn’t stop himself from gripping you tightly as he pulled you into the void, but he separated from you the instant you appeared in your bedroom. Your cats had reclaimed the bed in the few hours you’d been gone and neither was especially bothered that you’d just appeared in the room. As good a sign as any that things were back to normal.

“Hold on,” you said, catching his arm so he couldn’t run off into the void without you.

“I do not know if this is a good idea,” Sans said.

“Sans--”

“I could really hurt you. I… I could kill you. Easily.”

You laughed. “You think so? Because I’m a hella powerful mage. You got the jump on me, love, but you wouldn’t have knocked me to zero and you never would’ve got a second hit on me.” You moved closer to him, taking comfort in that he didn’t draw away. “I’ve fought things with a lot higher LV than you and walked away just fine. I haven’t lived over four centuries by being easy to kill, babe.”

“But--”

“No. I don’t want to hear it,” you said. “I love you. You would never hurt me if you were in your right mind, and even if you did, I would be more than a match for you. I’m not a delicate flower, Sans. And I don’t think it’s fair of you to try to decide for me who I get to be with.”

Sans’s shoulders dropped. “I couldn’t stand it if I hurt you. I thought…” He looked into your eyes and your heart broke to see tears forming there. You'd never seen Sans cry, hell, you didn't even think he _could_ cry. “I shot an attack and then you were just gone. I thought I killed you and my brother when I came to. I thought I lost both of you.”

Okay, you could see how that would be pretty disturbing actually. You pulled him into a hug. “You didn’t. You didn’t hit either of us. Neither of us were hurt at all.” He made a skeptical noise and you pulled back enough to look at his face. “What?”

“Do you think I didn’t notice that your HP is down?”

Oh. “That wasn’t you. That was… Look, don’t get pissed.” Sans just looked at you, so you elected to continue. “When Mutt got sirened he blue magicked me into a wall a few times.” You felt him stiffen. “And I’m fine! You know I am, babe. I’ve got a few bruises but I’m fine. I’m a lot tougher than you give me credit for.”

He nuzzled his face into your shoulder. “I know you are. I am sorry that I treat you like you are delicate. I know you are not. I just cannot lose you.”

“And I can’t lose you. So I guess we’re both gonna have to work our asses off to stay alive, huh?” You pulled him towards the bed. “Now, your furry sons didn’t get any love from their father before he left today and I didn’t receive my required amount of cuddles either.”

Sans chuckled, and the sound was like a balm to your soul. He wasn’t all better, not yet, but he was okay. He would be okay. “I am so sorry for neglecting my responsibilities as a father and bedmate.”

“Your apology will only be accepted if you provide double the normal amount of cuddles today.”

“Hmm,” Sans said as he crawled up onto the bed next to you. “What if we spend the day in here? We could probably watch most of a season of Schitt’s Creek before Mutt gets here. That would give us plenty of time to cuddle and to express my undying affection for my entire family, both mage and feline.”

You were positive that if your eyes could morph into hearts they would have. “And you’ll let me order food so we don’t have to leave for extended periods of time?”

Sans gave a fake sigh. “I suppose, if that is what is required to make up for my failures this morning.”

You snuggled against him. “It is.”

“Well, then please allow me to get started.” He pulled you into his arms and turned on Netflix. You snuggled in even more and let him gently massage your back.

You certainly weren’t delicate, but you didn’t mind when your boyfriend spent a little time treating you as precious. Besides, snuggles were good for the soul, and both of yours needed them now.


	16. Found In A Thrift Store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone always knew that Stretch's obsession with clown paraphernalia would be the end of him. They just didn't expect it to take the rest of them with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Description of wounds, blood, some implied abuse from a past relationship (very loosely and briefly implied)

Movie nights had been the preferred Skeleton Family Bonding Activity for as long as you’d known them. You got your first invite months before you and Sans’ fateful bonding experience that marked the beginning of your relationship, from Edge of all people. He noticed that you and Stretch got along and he was always trying to Pokemon Stretch some friends. In retrospect, it was possible that he was helping matchmake you and Sans, but that was a private suspicion you had that would likely never be confirmed. Edge claimed to be above his family’s matchmaking tendencies and you doubted that he would confess his plans, even if he truly had been trying to help Cupid along.

Either way, you had a standing invite to the movie nights now, as did any other significant others of the skeleton family. To be fair, most of them weren't seeing anyone, and those that were paired off with other members of the skeleton clan, but Mars had brought Ethan for a while before they broke up. Mutt was banned from bringing dates when it came out that he literally picked the last one up on the bus ride over to the house. He and Sans had a very explosive conversation about Mutt compromising the security of New New Home and the sanctity of _their_ home besides. After that fiasco, the rule was established that you had to know the invitee for at least a month before you were allowed to bring them to movie night.

That evening, it was Stretch and Edge’s turn to host movie night and you were already being treated to a show. Mutt was precisely 12 minutes late at this point and you were pretty sure that Sans was going to have a coronary.

“He _always_ does this,” Sans seethed, pacing back and forth in the living room. “I cannot understand why he cannot just… be on time! He can _teleport_ for fuck’s sake!”

“I know, babe,” you said, doing your best to appear sympathetic and not at all like you were enjoying watching Sans get into a snit. It was hilarious and, frankly, endearing. He was terrible at expressing actual feelings, so he always defaulted to anger when he was worried. Or scared. Or tired. Or, hell, hungry. 

Okay, so your boyfriend was angry a lot, but in this case, it was endearing because he was trying to hide how worried he was about his baby bro.

“Why don’t you call him?” you suggested again.

“I don’t want to nag!” Sans spat back for the third time.

Yeah. A few weeks ago Mutt had accused Sans of being a nagging mother hen during one of your missions. In Mutt’s defense, it was the fourth time Sans had called for a coms check in twenty minutes and it was kind of annoying, but it was because the three of you had to split up to deal with three separate alliumedes. Again, he’d been worried.

Just like he was now.

You were getting ready to call Mutt yourself when the magic in the air shifted slightly. “What’re we waitin’ for?” Mutt had the nerve to ask while leaning casually against the banister like he hadn’t nearly induced a panic attack in his brother.

“You little shit,” Sans muttered, but he was already grabbing your arm to teleport you to the movie night. You knew better than to think this little tiff was over, but at least they were calling a timeout until after the movie. You were pretty excited to watch Hamilton with the crew and you didn’t want to deal with passive aggressive (and maybe actually aggressive) brotherly stunts during it. 

The second you stepped out of the void, the hair on the back of your neck stood up. You snapped your head around trying to identify the source of the allimagic, but the only thing you saw was Edge and Stretch’s door.

Sans didn’t seem to notice your distress, firmly ringing the doorbell. Seriously, the one time his powers of observation failed and it was _here_ , at a house containing everyone he cared about in the world, that was also leaking allimagic. Awesome.

The door flew open and Blue was there, grinning and ushering you inside. You felt like the world was spinning, the allimagic twirling in a rainbow of colors around you. Allimagic wasn’t usually visible for you, but every alliumede was different. You’d seen all kinds of things, from thick ropes of twisting magic to shrill screeches that nearly deafened you. This one, unfortunately, made your head pound in what you feared would be a migraine later. Somehow still unaware of your plight, Sans guided you inside with his hand on the small of your back.

Inside, the feeling was worse.

“Guys,” you tried, but everyone was too distracted with one another to pay any attention to you. The whole house was a carousel of color, light reflecting off of every surface. You wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to _not_ be able to see this. The skeletons _really_ weren’t seeing what you were seeing.

You never imagined that you’d long after the _normal life_ of a group of skeletons who were alternate versions of each other and all lived in the same universe because theirs collapsed from Resets.

“-- put these here,” you tuned into Edge at the end of his sentence. He was taking the plate of no bake cookies that Sans made, moving to place them on the coffee table that was already loaded down with snacks, a side effect of so many skeletons enjoying cooking.

“Eleanor said--” Sans began, but the lights began strobing so you never found out what you said. Distantly, you felt someone grab hold of your elbow. 

“You ok?” Mutt asked, his soft voice close to your ear. You distantly wondered how many times he’d asked that to make him move that close to you. 

“Allimagic,” you said furtively.

“What did you say, Ellie?” Papyrus asked, considerably louder than his Swapfell counterpart.

Just this once, Pap’s lack of inside voice worked in your favor, drawing the attention of everyone around you. You felt Sans pull away to look at you, but he grabbed you again when you staggered under the effects of the allimagic. “My dear?” he asked, but he sounded far away.

“The house is full of allimagic,” you managed. “It’s bright, like lights at a carnival.”

You felt the change in the atmosphere immediately. All of the skeletons around you called up their magic, adding even more color to the already overwhelming amount in the living room. “Inside the house?” Edge asked. He moved so that Stretch was at his elbow, on the side without the socket crack. You felt Sans shift you so that you were in a similar position.

“Definitely,” you confirmed. “I felt it outside, but it’s overwhelming in here. It’s like the worst light show I’ve ever seen. I don’t know where it’s coming from, though.” You squinted around as you tried to find some sort of pattern to the lights, but it was all too chaotic to identify the source. 

“Is there anything new in the house?” Sans asked in his Business Voice.

Edge shook his head and looked at Stretch, who was also shaking his head. After a second, Stretch froze. “Wait,” he said.

“What is it, love?” Edge asked.

“I went to the thrift store today. El, you said it’s like a carnival in here?” You nodded, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open despite the nauseating swirl of colors around you. “Well, don’t get mad, Edgelord, but I brought home a fun surprise.” Edge stiffened as Stretch stepped around him towards a small linen closet. Stretch pulled the closet open and ruffled around in it a bit.

“Don’t touch it!” Sans and Edge yelled in unison. Stretch stepped back with his hands in the air and Edge pulled him back to his side. Sans stepped forward and grabbed… the hell? It was a painting of a clown. It appeared to be done on velvet, the colors brilliant and bright. You knew that Stretch and Edge had a weird clown rivalry thing happening, but this was… This one was disturbing.

“Why would you buy that?” you gasped. “It’s… Stretch, it’s _repulsive_ !” And it _was_. Most paintings of clowns at least tried to be jovial. This one? This one, instead, went for “clown horror movie”. The clown was leaning forward, out of the entrance of what appeared to be a circus tent, with a finger pressed to its lips, silencing you. If you looked a bit closer you could see into the tent itself and there lay the stuff of nightmares. Disemboweled children, headless bodies scattered around, and _blood,_ so much blood. What was even worse to your mind was the few piles of dust around the ring as well. When was this made? It looked like a product of the ’70s, but how would the artist ( _strong word_ ) know about monster dust at that time?

In your state, it took you a few minutes to realize that the skeletons were looking between you and the painting curiously. “What?” you snapped.

“Well,” Papyrus began diplomatically, “it’s just… I’m no fan of clowns, of course, but it seems a little strong to call it _repulsive_.”

You looked at him like he’d just suggested that cannibalism was totally fine. Stretch gestured to Papyrus. “See! He’s a voice of reason! It isn’t _that bad_.”

You looked up at Mutt, who was still partially holding you up. “Mutt. You see what I’m saying, right?” Mutt looked down at you, then back at the painting. His brow was furrowed in confusion. Even your incredibly reasonable boyfriend looked discomfited by your outright hatred of the painting. “You guys are joking,” you groaned. “Can’t you see inside the tent?”

That triggered a whole series of skeletal protests, finally summed up by Mutt. “Sorry, darlin’. I just see a clown wavin’ outside a tent.”

You gaped at him. You’d seen a lot of things in your long life, but a painting that changed depending on who viewed it? That was new. You briefly explained what you saw and took only a little pleasure in the increasingly-distraught skulls around you. _Yes. Get on my level._

Sans gingerly sat the painting down and backed away from it slowly until he was standing next to you. “Status report,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. As if you had anything to report that he didn't already know? “There’s a painting radiating allimagic in Stretch and Edge’s house.”

“An’ it’s fuckin’ creepy,” Mutt added.

“Yes, this is all very entertaining,” Edge said, “but how do we get rid of it?”

Oh. Right.

“Uh… I guess we can try burning it? You know, salt it, blessed wood circle, the whole thing?” you suggested. 

“Will that work?” Edge shot back, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Hell if I know, but just sitting here looking at it certainly won’t--”

You trailed off as you noticed Blue reaching for the painting. Stretch was looking at you, not his brother, and Blue had an oddly blank look on his face. 

“Blue no!” you yelled. Every skeleton in the house jumped and turned to Blue, but it was too late. His skeletal hand fingers brushed against the velvet of the painting and he was… gone. You were used to seeing skeletons completely disappear right in front of you, but not like _this_. 

Stretch tried to run over to the painting in panic, but Red was quicker. He grabbed Stretch’s arm so that he couldn’t get anywhere near the thing. “Let me go!” Stretch yelled, no, _screamed_. “I’m gonna rip that thing apart!”

“Shut up, y'all just get sucked into, too. Let the Scooby Gang handle it,” Red grumbled at him.

You and Sans stepped forward in unison to examine the thing. The clown changed, you realized. It was smiling up at you now, its razor sharp teeth visible. And that wasn’t the only thing that changed either. Tiny and in the background, you could see a small skeleton in cut off jeans and a blue crop top. “He’s in the tent,” you said softly to Sans.

“It still looks the same to me,” he whispered back. “Ideas?”

“We can’t burn it while he’s in there,” you said definitively. You couldn’t know what would happen if you did that, but you figured it wouldn’t be good. 

“Other ideas?”

You sighed. “I’m going in after him.”

Sans reared back in shock. “Like hell you are!” 

You had to fight back dark humor at that. Your well-spoken boyfriend never used incomplete sentences. Ever. He planned everything that he said all the time. Sometimes even his shocked reactions were more well-spoken than most people’s planned speeches. To hear him not make a complete sentence in response to what you said? Yeah, you could get used to that. (And, to be fair, you were a little bit. He wasn’t always so eloquent when dealing with feelings.)

“Yeah, sorry sweetheart,” Red said.

You felt a clawed hand on your shoulder and weren’t surprised to see Mutt grabbing onto you. He knew you so well. Behind him, Mars and Jupiter were both staring at the painting like it had offended them personally. 

It did steal one of their family members, so it kind of did offend them, you guessed.

“We don’t have time for this,” you said coolly. “I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen to Blue in there, but I do know that there are a lot of piles of dust in the tent.” You tried to ignore a pained sound from Stretch at that. “I’m the only one who can see what the painting really is, so it makes sense that I would stand the best chance against whatever this is, just like I wasn’t susceptible to the siren’s magic.”

“And if you just get trapped too?” Sans asked archly.

“Then you burn the damn thing.”

“Fuck that!” Mutt said emphatically. “Nah, I’ll go.”

“We’re wasting time!” you hissed.

“You should all go.” All eyes in the room swiveled to Mars in surprise. His work really didn’t overlap much with yours; he worked in security when Jupiter traveled with the diplomats and otherwise didn’t work, and he didn’t tend to weigh in on things that didn’t directly concern him. His red eyelight didn’t leave the painting. “Blue’s in there. Your best shot’s working together.” His eyelight shifted to you. “I’ll burn it if you get trapped.”

You expected Jupiter to react to that, but he simply folded his large hands and looked down. The other skeletons erupted into arguments around you, but you held Mars’s eyelight. The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Mars and Jupiter were used to doing whatever had to be done. They didn't shy away from ugly realities, and the ugly reality was that you might get stuck in there. The other skeletons probably wouldn’t be able to burn the thing but they would.

You felt overwhelming gratitude to them for that. Not only that, but his suggestion distracted your entire team and the rest of the house. They were all bickering around you. Mutt even removed his hand from your shoulder to throw his hands up in frustration at something Red said. You couldn’t help but think Mars planned for that to happen. 

Now or never.

You reached out towards the painting and willed yourself to enter it. Your fingers brushed the velvet and you felt a strange pulling sensation that your soul immediately rejected with all its might. You ignored that and leaned into the pull. The sounds of the arguing skeletons around you suddenly stopped, and you were in a dark void-like space. It only lasted a few seconds before the darkness of the void was replaced with the sounds of a carnival.

That wasn’t exactly accurate, though, was it? The sounds were off, somehow warped, like you were listening to them on a slightly melted record. The smells were the same way; the air reeked of buttery popcorn, but if you breathed too deeply you also caught the scent of death hanging in the air. The colors were all too bright as if the saturation was off somehow.

“Actually, I think it would be best if I went home! My brother will be concerned!” a familiar voice cried out. Blue sounded _scared_. The noise was coming from inside the tent. You normally would’ve taken a deep breath before shoving open the tent flap, but honestly, you didn’t want that death smell lingering in your nose. Instead, you formed your hands into fists at your sides for fortification, then shoved your way in.

Blue was sitting at the top of a dunking booth, which was weird in and of itself. He looked terrified, but he wasn’t attacking. Probably couldn’t use magic in this… Well, it had to be a pocket dimension, right? “Ellie!” Blue cried and you didn’t miss the note of relief in his voice. “I am so glad you’re here! This clown is not very pleasant.”

“Yeah. Okay, we gotta go.” You walked over to the dunking booth and began fiddling with it trying to figure out how to free him. A bit of water splashed onto your hand while you worked and suddenly, searing pain ripped through your hand originating from where the drop landed. “What was that?” you hissed. You tried to wipe the drop off of your hand with the sleeve of your cardigan and yanked it back horrified when it burned a hole straight through the fabric.

“I think it’s acid,” Blue said, his calm facade breaking. “I didn’t mean to come here! And now you're in danger, I'm so sorr--”

“I know. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. We just have to--” The soft carnival music that had been playing the background the whole time suddenly increased exponentially, drowning out whatever instruction you were about to give him. You spun around, scanning the tent for the clown that you just knew had to be there somewhere. A squawk behind you brought your attention back to Blue.

He was gone.

“Blue?” you yelled, but the music drowned out your voice. You looked around the tent, surely he was here, he had to be… There! The center of the ring! A carnival wheel appeared out of thin air. You approached it and circled it, hoping that it gave you a clue as to where he was. Hopefully, you didn’t need a vacuum because he was still fine… You rubbed your forehead. _Not a funny joke_.

You froze then you reached the front of the wheel. You’d indeed found Blue; he was strapped to the wheel by his ankles and wrists, slowly turning around and around. His eye lights were noticeably dimmer than they had been only minutes before. “You’re fine,” you told him sternly. You paused and scanned the room. That thing had to be here somewhere…

A knife whizzed past your head, grazing your cheek.

Beside you, Blue screamed and then whimpered softly. You looked around wildly, sure that the knife hit him. It didn’t appear that it had though. Instead, it was embedded in the wood of the wheel inches from his neck. You turned and that’s when you saw…

 _Huh_.

Instead of the anticipated clown, you saw a child. And it wasn’t just any child either. It was Frisk. They were standing at the entrance of the tent, their eyes squinted in your direction. A wave of concern washed over you; how the hell did they get here? Did they come over to the skeleton house during movie night for some reason? Why did those idiots let them get anywhere near the haunted painting that eats people? There’s no way that Sans would let them past him, not to mention the rest of the skeleton family. Everyone was at least peripherally fond of Frisk, and even if they hadn’t been, they weren’t about to let a child wander into danger. Even if that child was a fairly powerful mage in their own right. So… were they okay? Did something happen to the other skeletons? Was it possible they were here somewhere and you just hadn’t found them yet?

You opened your mouth to call Frisk, to ask how they got here, where the skeletons were, but Frisk’s smile stopped you. Their grin was unlike anything you’d ever seen on the youth’s face. She held up her hand and a _FUCKING KNIFE_ materilized in it.

“No,” Blue whimpered behind you. You stepped between him and the thing that definitely wasn’t Frisk and raised your hands to channel your magic. The thing’s smile got bigger and the knife flew at you. You raised a shield, covering yourself and Blue with protective magic. Frisk may be powerful, but you’d taught them a lot of what they knew, so if this thing had similar powers, you should be able to defeat it easily. No problem. Everything’s--

Pain exploded from your left shoulder. 

You looked down and were startled to see the handle of a knife emerging from your shoulder, surely the source of the pain. You looked back up and confirmed that yes, your shield was still up. The knife passed _through your shield_ somehow. 

The garbled music of the carnival suddenly stopped with a screech like someone had ripped a needle off the record. It was replaced with a new sound and it was so, so much worse. The thing was laughing. It was high-pitched and maniacal. Its whole face appeared to be melting, leaving behind bright red eyes and a gaping mouth with razor-sharp teeth.

“Not again, please!” Blue gasped. You turned to him. 

“Again?” you hissed.

“It’s happened so many times. I could never save Pappy, never stop it before it left Snowdin. Always dusted, always left Pappy to stop it…” Blue was completely lost to you, babbling nonsense. Pappy? That’s what he called Stretch, but Stretch was fine… _What the hell happened to those guys in their Snowdin?_

It didn’t matter, not right now. You were pretty sure you knew what this thing was and you weren’t having it.

“Hey!” you yelled at the laughing thing. “How about you play with someone on your own level, yeah? I know monsters are a tasty snack, but how about a mage? Lots of magic to eat and I bet it’s pretty easy to scare a little girl mage, huh?”

The thing stopped laughing and cocked its head like it was thinking. It flickered for a second and you saw the clown briefly replace Frisk. It flickered again, then it was directly in front of you. You cursed and stumbled backward, crashing into the wheel Blue was on, sending pain shooting through your shoulder. The clown held up a hand, then pointed at Blue.

Cool. Charades.

“Blue,” you said obediently. The clown touched its nose, then pointed at you. “Me.” Another nose touch. “You want to trade me for Blue? That’s fine; let him out of the painting.” The clown shook its head and held up three fingers. Man, you hated this thing. “Three words,” you said in a monotone. You couldn’t wait to rip this guy apart. Sure, you weren’t one for killing intelligent alliumedes usually, but there’s nothing like party games to drive you right to murder. There's a reason the skeletons do movie nights, _not_ game nights, and you... May or may not be part of that reason. It's fine. You paid to replace the fire extinguisher.

The clown pantomimed rolling dice. “Dice?” you suggested, and the clown shook its head. It pantomimed tag next. “Uh… oh, a game maybe?” The clown clapped its hands and touched its nose. You clutched at your shoulder while you thought. “You want to play a game?” The clown nodded, then pointed from Blue to you again. _Oooooh_. “You want to play a game with me and if I win you’ll let Blue go.”

The clown made a huge show of celebrating your understanding, then it dramatically held out its hand to you. “If I win,” you said coolly, “we both go free.” The clown looked shocked and shook its finger at you like it was reprimanding you. You shrugged. “Or I can mage magic my way out of here. I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.” The clown seemed to think about that, then nodded slowly and held out its hand again.

Sans was going to kill you for this.

You shook its hand.

The scene spun around you and suddenly you and the clown were standing on a stage. You could see Blue in the audience, sitting on the floor in one of those fake cages they have at carnivals where you can pay to put someone in “jail” for a while. He was slumped against the bars of the cage, his skull covered in blue sweat and otherwise pale. Not a lot of time then.

That was fine. You didn’t need a lot of time.

The clown was dancing around the stage and you could only assume you were supposed to be having some sort of dance-off with it. You didn’t pay attention to the rules because, quite frankly, you didn’t intend to play whatever game this thing had in mind. You just wanted it to stop throwing knives while you… 

You pulled the knife from your shoulder, careful not to make a sound. You were pretty sure this was a lich, an ancient mage that gave up its soul to defy death. How it came to be trapped as a clown in a painting, you had no idea, but you were relatively certain that it was drawing in beings with souls and feeding on them, specifically their fear, until they were drained dry. 

Supporting evidence: All the dead stuff, your ability to see its true nature, the fact that it turned into Frisk (who Blue was afraid of? Apparently?)

Dissenting evidence: Blue is scared of Frisk(?)

Eh, if there was one thing you knew about the skelebros it was that they were full of mysterious depths. They had trauma upon trauma, like a weird bottomless trauma sundae that you didn’t think you’d ever reach the bottom of. You knew that Stretch didn’t spend any time around the human ambassador, but Blue was part of the ambassador team. You weren’t sure why he was afraid of Frisk, and you were sort of centering your whole theory on that reaction, but you were just gonna go ahead and roll those dice. Eh, not like you had an alternate plan anyway.

The good news was that liches were super frowned upon in the mage community and every lesson you’d had as a child had involved how to kill them.

_(they said your parents were liches, called them traitors, said they turned on their kind, but they didn’t, they didn’t, they--)_

Focus. 

Mage blood, you remembered, was poison to the lich. They couldn’t face what they had once been before they perverted the laws of magic. So all you needed to do was--

_(that’s how they said your parents died originally, mage blood, but that was a lie, then they said it was the monsters, their king betrayed his spies, but it was lies, it was, it--)_

Blue whimpered, forcibly pulling you back to reality. Now that the lich was focused on you it was starting to dig through your mind to find what you feared, you knew. It wouldn’t take long, even with your magic fighting it every step of the way. That’s why it was confined to those awful preteen years right now, long enough ago that you didn’t know as well how to protect yourself but it would move forward eventually, no one can hold them off forever. Luckily you didn’t need foreve--

_(he was your first love, your first everything, you loved him so, so much would’ve spent forever with him, but he wasn’t who he said he was, and now you were broken)_

You raised the knife and froze. It wasn’t a clown before you anymore. Nope, you’d recognize those unkempt curls anywhere. He turned and smiled at you, that disarming smile you’d always loved, and his eyes were full of caring. “It’s good to see you again,” Oliver said sweetly. He held out his hand to you. “You don’t have to do this. We can be together here, you know.” He took a step towards you. “I never stopped loving you, even when… Well. I wasn’t myself, Nora, you know that, don’t you? You were so hasty to leave. You never let me explain. But I do. I do love you.”

You felt your resolve slipping. He was looking at you with those bright eyes and your soul still instinctively reached towards him. You wanted what he was saying to be true, you really did, and maybe… Maybe…

\--The scene flickered and you nearly screamed. The hand he held out to you was coated in blood. You felt the bones of your face break again, the blood pour from your mouth, the hot tears on your cheeks--

Then it was fine again, Oliver holding out his hand and smiling warmly.

That was enough of that. You brought the knife down on his hand and he screamed, and the sound reminded you that this was not Oliver. It was almost otherworldly, it made you want to curl into a ball and never move again.

You swung the knife again, connecting with his chest this time.

The thing staggered back, blinking from Oliver, to Frisk, and then, to your horror, Sans. He looked up at you, marrow pouring out of his mouth. His purple eye lights flickered and he reached for you. You almost took his hand on instinct, but you swung the knife again and he staggered back. He flickered again, from Red, to Mutt, to Comic, to Oliver, to Mars, to the new Papyrus you’d found in Snowdin before settling on

“Pappy!” Blue screamed, and you didn’t miss the pain in his voice. The cage he’d been in was gone and he was running towards the stage, reaching for his brother.

Not his brother.

You grabbed him, wrapping both arms around his small-but-still-decently-sized frame. He screamed and tried to throw you off of him, still trying to reach Stretch. “It’s not him! It’s not him!” you yelled to him, but he was too far gone to hear you. His bony fingers dug into your shoulder, the stabbed one, making you gasp, but you didn’t let go. He punched you in the face and you felt blood trickle from your nose but you held on.

If he touched it, it would revive it.

The world around you was melting. The once-colorful circus tent was melting away to reveal blackness that would rival the void. Everything was swirling, like paint going down a drain. You squeezed your eyes shut and held on tightly.

You felt Blue gasp and you opened your eyes. Everything around you was darkness, except for one light shining on a prone figure. It wasn’t Oliver or Stretch or Sans; instead, it was the clown again. His face paint was melting away to reveal the face of an older human man, probably in his fifties. His eyes flicked over to you and for a moment you thought you recognized him. He looked you in the eyes and whispered in a low, guttural voice that you could hardly hear, “Thank you.”

With that, he disintegrated into the black sludge that the alliumedes often became upon death. You felt a pulling sensation and you kept your grip on Blue tight. Everything was dark again for a moment, then you were kneeling on a wooden floor, still clutching Blue.

“--take your arm and beat you to death with it if you don’t get out of my way, Edgelord!” Stretch was yelling. He stopped upon seeing you and Blue, his anger turning to terror immediately. “Blue! Blue! Are you ok bro?”

You felt skeletal hands grab hold of you and pull you off of Blue. You were loath to let him out of your sight, even though you knew intellectually that you were both safe now. You turned a bit so that you could see who had you. It was, of course, Sans. His eye lights were bright with worry and he looked into your face. “Are you alright?” he asked, and you heard the frantic undertone.

“How long were we gone?” you croaked.

“Not long. Five minutes perhaps?” His phalanges found the bruise that was growing on your face from Blue punching you. He traced it gently but stopped when you grimaced. It was still sensitive. He grabbed your arms to try to get a better look at you and startled when you gasped at the contact. He immediately began looking you over for more injury and was quick to find the knife wound. He opened his mouth but you quickly put a hand over it.

“I’m fine,” you said. The look he gave you told you that he was not impressed with your response. You sighed. “I will be fine. It was a lich and it drained Blue a bit before I got there. Frankly, I’m more worried about him.”

You were positive that neither your voice nor your face betrayed the roiling feelings inside of you, all of the horror and negativity that the lich dredged up. Seeing Oliver again, all the stuff about your parents… That all sucked, and it felt like your soul was in a storm on a boat. No matter how well you hid it, Sans’s face made it clear that he knew. He couldn’t know exactly what happened, not yet, and you knew you’d tell him later, probably in the dark of your room while you were snuggled in bed, but right now he was just worried.

You glanced over at Blue, who was clutching Stretch like… Well, like he’d seen him die. There was a story there too, and lots of questions about his relationship with Frisk, but that would wait as well. You let Sans lead you over to the couch, didn’t even protest that you would bleed on it. You only allowed him to stop touching you when Papyrus shot some healing into your shoulder and your face. The instant Papyrus was done, you were dragging Sans back to you, clinging to him tightly. You didn’t look at the concern in his eye lights, you couldn’t. The truth was the worst of your terror was being assuaged right then. You’d seen Sans die and there was nothing that you wanted to do more than to feel him alive.

You snuggled against his side and shut your eyes. You’d be okay. This would be okay. He was here and that was all okay.


	17. This House is Hungry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Paranormal Investigation Team really doesn't do horror cliches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed some softer chapters after the last few heavy hitters!
> 
> **TW: Short, undetailed description of a panic attack**

“Pfffffft! Ha ha ha ha!” You were doubled over, laughing so hard you were crying, holding both of your sides because they felt like they might burst from the laughter. “No, no I’m sorry. Say--pffft--say it again!”

Edge was bright red, looking down at his feet, and you would have felt bad, but he crossed his arms like a petulant toddler and said, “It is not funny! It is a very serious situation!”

You forced yourself to get it together, even as Mutt howled behind you. “I really am sorry, Edge. It’s just… Man, that’s the most cliche thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I fail to see why it is so funny!”

“I said I was sorry,” you said. “Mutt’s sorry too, and he will say it just as soon as he gets his shit together.” That set Mutt off again, continuing to roll on the grimy floor of the decrepit house you found yourself exploring.

Even Stretch was laughing in your earpiece, possibly even harder than Mutt. “Babe, they’re right! That was comedy gold. I’m so glad I record these missions!”

“You will delete this recording!”

“Aw, what’ll happen if I don’t?” Stretch’s voice was less ‘laughy’ and more ‘sultry’ now, so it was time to get this train back on the tracks.

“Okay,” you said, “what makes you say that--” you were interrupted by another howl of laughter and it took all of your self-control to eke out “--this house is hungry?”

More laughter met that and you didn’t think it was possible for Edge to get any redder, but here he was. “I’m all of your bosses!” Edge snapped.

“I’m actually still an independent consultant hired by Asgore,” you said at the same time that Stretch said, “Only in the bedroom, captain.” Mutt didn’t bother to stop laughing to add anything to the discussion.

“Fine! Can we just move along, please?”

“Yeah. Why did you say that… That thing you said?” you asked, valiantly not laughing again.

“‘Cause he thought it’d sound cool and he wanted to impress you guys,” Stretch said.

“You--!” Edge began, then cut off and shook his head. “The house seems to take souls. I read a legend about it--”

You felt terrible about what you were getting ready to do to him, you really did. You scoffed at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing here. Let’s go.” You turned on your heel and marched back to the front room. Before you left, you grabbed Edge’s wrist and pulled him with you. He tensed under your touch, but he didn’t rip your arm off, so you figured you were on a shortlist of people that could touch him unexpectedly and not die. 

The instant you, Edge, and Mutt were all on the dewy lawn you walked over to your Jeep and began rummaging through the back. You came out with several cans of gasoline, a box of matches, a jug of holy water, and an industrial size box of salt. “Stay here,” you whispered to Edge, “and call for more teleporters if we aren’t back out in 10 minutes.”

“What--”

“I promise we’ll explain when we get back. This is a bit time-sensitive.” You turned to Mutt. “Ready?”

He swallowed and nodded, clearly uncomfortable, but it couldn’t be helped this time. Sans was having a magic flare-up and the other teleporters were busy. He swore to you that he talked it over with his therapist and could handle it, but you were still worried, which is why you were going in with him at all. Normally he’d just port around and deal with all this on his own or with Sans, but today you’d have to make due.

You grabbed Mutt’s shoulder and felt the familiar tendrils of the void. You appeared inside the house but didn’t let go of Mutt. He staggered a bit, took a few deep breaths, then looked over at you. “‘M ok,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, “then let’s do this.” You immediately flung holy water around the room and flinched as a horrible screaming began. You’d expected it, but hearing a whole house screaming was never not unsettling.

Mutt was behind you with the salt and, in the places where it mixed with the holy water, it began to eat through the floor like acid. The screaming increased and the air around you felt thick. You couldn’t see anything, but you felt like hands were grabbing you, trying to pull you to the ground.

You smelled the gasoline but didn’t see Mutt throw it. He grabbed you and yanked you backward; you assumed he was pulling you towards the door. It made sense; you wanted to be close to an exit if you were going to light the place on fire. You couldn’t be positive he could teleport out of a “hungry house” and it was impossible to be too careful.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready!” You lit a whole handful of matches and flicked them into the room. The whole place lit up and the screaming increased, the volume was nearly deafening. You waited for Mutt to pull you into the void, but he didn’t. You couldn’t tell if he didn’t because he was freaking out or because he wasn’t able to, but either way, the two of you were now standing in a burning building.

And, damn it, those invisible hands had quite a hold on you.

Then something was yanking you backward, not into the void, but into the cool, crisp night air. You staggered and fell onto the dewy grass, coughing. Mutt fell beside you and curled up in a ball, shivering.

“Are you alright?” Edge was kneeling in front of you, eye lights full of worry.

“Are they, babe?” Stretch asked frantically. You realized you hadn’t heard him the whole time you were in the building.

“I’m fine,” you said. You looked over at Mutt. “Hey,” you said softly, “can I touch you?”

He stiffened, but nodded a little bit. You slid over and rubbed his back in small circles, cooing softly. It took a couple of minutes, but he slowly uncurled and, by the time he looked at you, he seemed better. Calmer.

“Hi there,” you said.

“I… I might not be ok in the void,” he said, soft enough that you knew he didn’t mean for Edge to hear. Whether or not he did was unclear; he had backed off to give you two some space and was watching the fire burn with polite interest.

“Okay,” you told him.

“‘S not. You coulda died.”

“Coulda. Didn’t. It’s okay, Scoob. You are allowed to have issues. We all do.” You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “You’re gonna get through this. I’m here to help.” You leaned down next to his acoustic meatus and whispered. “Besides, we have a lot of making fun of Edge to do right now, so I need you to get it together so we can do that.”

That earned you the expected snort, then Mutt let you pull him to his feet. The two of you went over to watch the hungry house burn with Edge. You'd apologize and explain--the house could hear you and if it knew that you knew... Look, you didn't need it to be harder to kill. He'd reluctantly forgive you, probably, then feed you both a delicious dinner while you, Mutt, and Stretch made fun of him more. But for now, you had a hungry house to watch burn to the ground and a sick, grumpy boyfriend to text.

It promised to be a wonderful evening.


	18. Whispering in Your Ear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red has other shit to do besides keep Black's mage alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the hardest time with this prompt! I don't hate what I came up with, but I'm definitely not a huge fan. I don't think there's anything to warn for, though.

Red had other jobs besides babysitting the Embassy’s personal group of ghostbusters. Keepin’ his bro alive, keepin’ Stretch alive so his bro didn’t lose it, and now keepin’ Sans alive, not to mention preventin’ all the plots an’ schemes that humans came up with to fuck monsterkind sideways. Hell, it wasn’t a Monday if he didn’ have a militant leader to chat up or a terrorist to stalk. He _especially_ had other things to do besides make sure that Black’s little mage girlfriend didn’t get plugged into a machine and have her determination ripped outta her, that’s for damn sure.

That’d been a hoot and a half, findin’ out that one of his personally-trained security team members was helpin’ make that poor girl into an experiment. Red had some experience with that, all the low HP crowd did, and he wasn’t about to let that happen to no one else. It helped that when Sans looked into his soul he saw some deep racist roots, made it easier to understand why ‘e did it. Didn’ make it easier for Red to accept he’d been so wrong ‘bout Douglas, but he’d just have to be more careful next time, wouldn’t ‘e?

Today, Red was doin’ one of his other jobs. To the untrained eye, it prob’ly looked like Red was simply gettin’ a coffee in the best coffee shop in town. He even smiled real nice at the girl when she handed him his coffee, very polite. He slunk to a table in the back corner  _ (always be able to see the entrance and exit, never let anyone sneak up on ya, sometimes a shortcut ain’t fast enough) _ and proceeded to sip the blended drink that he ordered on the sly. He’d never admit it, not for torture or money, but them salted caramel blended things were the shit. 

Red tilted his head a bit, all the better to hear with, my dear. Sans’d designed him a handy-dandy little earpiece that fit just inside his skull. Amplified sound and made sure that he didn’t miss a thing. It was also BlueTooth compatible, so that was nice. 

Most of the chatter in the coffee shop was of the borin’ sort today, college kids worryin’ about flunkin’ a test or who was shackin’ up with who, a few mothers chattin’ while their lil crotch fruits were babblin’. Not at all what he was there for. He tilted his skull again, taking another decadent sip, and heard a soft whisper. Certainly he wasn’t meant to hear it from clear across the shop, thank you Sans.

“Ok, ok,” the frantic voice said low, “but you gotta promise me protection, something! I can’t just… This is high-level shit, this isn’t just a few lab notes!”

A soft chuckle. “You think I care how you feel about what I’m asking for? You made this bed long ago. You’ll get the research or I’ll leave you to lie in it.” A chair pushed back and Red chanced a glance towards the man striding past him. Red cataloged everything about him immediately. Tall, wearing a hat, dressed nice, skinny as a bean pole. He trusted that his camera would pick up anything else visually interesting. No, he was interested in a deeper look.

Red never gave up his ability to Look, to Judge. He knew Stretch did, and that was fine, Mars lost it long ‘fore he got to this world, an’ by some twist of fate, neither Swapfell bro ever had it. But Red didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, didn’t question an ability that would let him understand the fuckers around ‘im a little bit better. If he’d used it on Douglas and Hueline, Ellie woulda never got her soul cracked on that table and that was a fact. He wasn’ gonna make that mistake again. He called up the power and looked at the human’s back, bracin’ himself for the influx of information…

… Only to have his eye explode in pain. He cursed and covered it in his hilariously ineffective bony hands, gasping.  _ What the hell?  _ What had the power to stop the Judge’s stare? Certainly nothing Red’d ever heard of. After several minutes of agony, he staggered to the little bathroom in the back of the shop and locked the door. He pulled his hand away from his eye and was horrified to see a new crack radiating from that socket. Small, certainly not like his other crack, but definitely there. 'Sides, that was the eye socket his camera was in. He'd bet that knife collection he won from Black that he didn't have any useful video on that anymore. Well, shit. Nothin' to go on and a _head-splittin'_ headache.

Luckily, Underfell was a hell of a teacher in handlin’ pain, so Red was able to tamp down the agony that cut through his head. He strode out of the bathroom and forced himself to keep that eye open, though it hurt like hell. He stepped out onto the street and wasn’ surprised to see the stranger was gone. That was fine; he had other sources. He shortcutted back to the Embassy, managing to step out of the shortcut without falling. He leaned casually beside the security checkpoint as another personal trainee of his feigned interest in his crossword puzzle. Red taught him that; make security look easy to breach and you won’t try as hard to do it. 

Red simply waited until a lizard monster burst through the front door. He was one of Alphys’s interns, Red noted, and shouldn’t have access to much of the lab. He’d have to speak to the lizard lady about her security procedures; she was already on his shit list for not figurin’ out one of her doctors was runnin’ unauthorized soul experiments for months.

The lizard froze when he saw Red. He opened and shut his mouth, looked down at his watch like he was realizing the time, then turned to head back out the door. Red stepped out of a shortcut right in front of him and took pleasure in watching the intern scream and jump. “Hey pal,” Red said lightly, “lets me and you take a walk together, yeah?”

“Uh, actually I have to--”

Red grabbed his shoulder and leaned in. “I was only bein’ polite,” he said soft enough that he couldn’t be overheard. “You’re comin’ with me.”

“No, you don’t unders--”

Red barked a laugh. “That right? I don’ understand ya tryin’ to sell secrets ta someone in a coffee shop?”

The lizard seemed to wilt. “I had to,” he whimpered.

“Yeah, betrayin’ ya own kind is somethin’ ya usually have ta do,” Red growled. “Come on.” He yanked the kid into a shortcut and stepped out onto a level of the Embassy that few knew about. He marched the kid forward to one of the see-through doors and shoved him into one of the identical cells. “Get comfy, kid,” Red said. “You an’ me got a lotta talkin’ ta do. First, Imma go get your king and your Judge so he can tell me everythin’ you’ve ever even thought ‘bout doin’ wrong. Then you’re gonna tell me where ta find your friend.”

“I didn’t betray any monsters!” the kid yelled. Red turned and looked at him, one brow raised  _ (and if it hurt like hell to raise his brow, this kid didn’t need to know) _ . “It was… He only wanted research about…” The kid looked down as his claws tearfully.

“My patience’s runnin’ thin,” Red growled. “Speak up or tell it ta Asgore an’ the Judge.”

“He only wanted research about the mage, the one that Dr. Hueline was experimenting on, not monsters!” he exclaimed, all in a big rush. He looked up at Red hopefully.

“Well, kid,” Red said slowly, “you’re right. Ya didn’ betray your kind.” He walked forward until he was standing in front of him. “But ya did betray one o’ my family, so it’s really not lookin’ better for ya.”

The kid got even paler if that were possible. He pushed himself up against the wall. “B-b-but--”

“We’ll be talkin’,” Red growled, then patted the kid on a cheek. He shortcutted out of the cell, up into Black’s office to wait on him to get back from lunch. Red leaned forward and rubbed his new crack. He really did have other jobs ‘sides tryin’ to keep Black’s mage alive, but hell if any of ‘em felt all that important right now. One of Red’s people was in danger and he wasn’ about to let her get hurt. Again.


	19. Alien Implant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole gang decides to do a horror movie marathon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my goals with this month is just to try whatever, so I'm trying lots of different styles and narrators, just to see what I can do. Honestly, it's been super fun. This one came from wanting to do something different and from having nothing for aliens. I already did space, so I decided to shoot off in a different direction.   
> Also a few Easter eggs as an homage to FlyWIthSerenity's WeirdTober stuff. There's a link in the Fics Inspired By This One section and if you like this at all, you should check that one out!

****ALIEN****

“I don’ believe in aliens.”

“What? Mutt, you’ve literally been to an alien planet to fight an alliumede!”

“Nah, that’s an alliumede. Could be a plain ol’ Earth one that made ‘s way to that planet. Prob’ly is.”

“Are you intentionally obtuse or…?”

“What about the turdunkens?”

“Alliumede.”

“I thought you stopped taking drugs, Mutt. I’m worried about you.”

****HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE****

“Sans…”

“Give me just another moment, please.”

“You know we can just look up the scenes that have ghosts right? Like, we don’t have to pause and look for them…”

“It’s the thrill of the hunt, my dear.”

“The thrill…?”

“No, he’s right. We cannot be defeated like this.”

“Edge!”

****THE SHINING****

“‘Ve always thought it’d be cool to have a twin.”

“Two Mutts? Hard pass.”

“Aw, I know I make ya  _ hard _ , sweetheart.”

“If you make sex jokes at my husband again, I’ll be forced to fight you for his honor.”

“Pffffffffft… What honor? Ta honey bun ain’t had honor since ‘e was in stripes!”

“I’ll have you know--”

“Red, if you think I won’t rip my brother’s spine out through his mouth you are sorely mistaken.”

****PSYCHO****

“An’ this’s why I never shower.”

“SANS! You are a disgusting bipedal snail and you didn’t shower before you saw this terrifying film!”

“Ya know me so well, bro.”

****US****

“Excuse me, but isn’t this one about a bunch of clones?”

“Hmm…? Yeah, I guess.”

“So everyone in the film has a clone that they meet.”

“Haven’t seen it, but yeah?”

“Isn’t that just… our lives?”

“Black makes a good point. Maybe we should skip it. I’d hate to have to dust all the other Papyruses because I got nightmares about evil clones.”

“... You know you’re married to a Papyrus, right?”

“I don’t understand your point.”

****CHILD’S PLAY****

“Who would expose their child to this?!”

“‘S also a great example of why not to get a child.”

“Pretty sure most children don’t have haunted dolls, Mars.”

“Nah, ‘m pretty sure they do.”

“CAN WE WATCH SOMETHING LESS SCARY, PLEASE?”

****RL STINE’S THE HAUNTING HOUR****

“HOW IS THIS LESS SCARY? IT STILL HAS A HAUNTED DOLL!”

“Bro, this’s for children.”

“YOU JUST SAID CHILDREN ALWAYS HAVE HAUNTED DOLLS! WHY’RE WE WATCHING THIS?!”

“So… Mars, you didn’t tell him about the whole situation with Jeremy did you?”

“WHAT?”

“Shudupshudupshudup!”

****IT FOLLOWS****

“‘Ey, El, if you had the curse thing, who’d ya give it to?”

“Are you asking who I like enough to have sex with but hate enough that I’d want them to die?”

“Yeah!”

“So someone hot but really annoying?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s you. I’d pass it to you. Hot, sure, you share a face with my boyfriend, but so goddamn annoying.”

“... So you’re sayin’ you’d hit this?”

*Sounds of a skeleton getting smacked from multiple sources*

****IT****

“NO!”

“But--”

“I said no! No clowns!”

“It’ll be fun! Come on--”

*sound of a gaster blaster blowing up a DVD*

“I SAID NO!”

"... So anyone else ready to call it a night?"


	20. Men In Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Men in Black are real... and can definitely be dicks about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I skipped to this prompt today. I was trying to do them in order, but I have a baby migraine and need to be able to go to work tomorrow and I had this chapter written already soooo... here it is! I will respond to comments/messages tomorrow too; I appreciate them SO MUCH but I'm just doin' a drive-by to drop this off on my way to take some intense migraine medicine and hopefully not throw up all night!  
> See you tomorrow!
> 
> TW: Description of minor injury that involves blood, a ruse that involves insinuating a prostitution-ish scenario (very, very undetailed, brief, and also not true at all), brief mention of torture (no torture actually happens)
> 
> Also, the timeline on these drabbles is all over the place. This one is closer to the beginning of Sans and Ellie's relationship.

The gash on your head was still bleeding, blood dripping into your eyes. You blew upwards, trying to somehow stop the dripping and get your hair out of your eyes by the sheer force of your breath. It’d never worked before, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t work now. Your bound hands were certainly no help, currently tied a little too tightly to the chair you were sitting in.

These guys really went all out; they had you in a warehouse with one overhead light. To your left was a tray with a towel over it, probably a set of horrific torture devices that one of the besuited gentlemen in front of you would show you with a flourish in about five minutes. Like they’d ever actually touch you before Sans and Mutt got here.

A groan snapped your attention over your right shoulder. A flash of orange made you tense. You thought you’d drawn them far enough away from the van that Stretch would be safe, but apparently not. And these guys must not be total morons; they had him far enough away from you that casting a shield over both of you would really dip into your magic reserves. They were low already from giving these guys the run around earlier, which is why you weren’t allowing any healing magic to drift to your various injuries. You needed all the magic you could get to hold out until the cavalry arrived, and you formed that plan before you realized you had a low HP buddy to keep from dusting.

“They’re awake,” one of the suits said. He was still wearing his glasses inside and seemed like he was Too Old For This Shit. You mentally began calling him Agent K.

The other, a younger man that you immediately dubbed Will Smith, kicked your chair, sending it scooting a few inches. “Listen, you need to tell us what we wanna know, sweetie,” he said, his voice full of mock concern. “I don’t got a problem with ya, but my partner has a real bug up his ass ‘bout how you blew up his car.”

That made you smirk a little. You hadn’t meant to blow up the car, even wrapped a shield around the explosion to keep it contained, but it had been funny as hell to watch these guys flip out about it. And next time Sans told you and Stretch to make a distraction, he would probably be a tad more specific about it.

“He loved that car,” Will Smith continued, “and I already had to convince ‘im not to just shoot you and your partner here. So give us somethin’ to work with before we have a coupla bodies to clean up, yeah?”

“It wasn’t even your car.” You shut your eyes at the snarky voice to your right. As always, Stretch’s mouth was writing checks he couldn’t cash.

Will Smith’s attention shifted from you to him. “Yeah? Ya know, I heard monsters dust when you kill ‘em. Good thing I brought a vacuum cleaner, eh?”

You didn’t miss how much colder his tone was to Stretch than to you. So a good ole monster-hating racist on top of a piece of shit ex-government man. Excellent. 

Before Stretch could say anything else, you let out a terrified sob, really playing up the drama as big, fat tears rolled down your face. “Please don’t hurt me!” you squeaked. “I don’t know anything! I was just his date!”

As planned Will Smith was back in your face. He grabbed your chin and tilted your face up to look him in the eye. You heard Stretch make a strangled sound of anger, but sent a pulse of intent at him, one that you hoped told him to shut the fuck up before he got you both killed. “You’re datin’ this piece of shit monster?” Will Smith asked.

You shook your head as best you could in his vice grip. “No, but he pays well and I gotta make a livin’ somehow!”

Stretch, ever quick on the draw, picked up on the game. “You said you loved me!” he spat. Then, his tone turned tremulous. “And… and, baby love, I love you. Don’t… Why are you saying these things?”

_Perfect_. Will Smith and Agent K over there both grinned like sharks. “You love her, huh?” Will Smith said. Agent K walked over and ripped the towel off the tray, right on cue. You contorted your face into a properly frightened visage, letting your breath hitch. Stretch, to his credit, also visibly paled. You weren’t sure if it was an act or he was actually a little nervous about those tools. You’d seen worse, though. These guys clearly weren’t your average hardened torture boys. Probably their first time. _Aw_.

Agent K picked up a hammer and approached you, swinging it around slowly. You whimpered and tried to lean back in the chair. “Tell us what we want to know, filth, and we’ll be gentle with your girl,” he said. He slammed the hammer down on the arm of the chair mere millimeters from the tips of your fingers. You jumped appropriately, pretending to stifle a cry. Stretch made an outraged noise that you weren’t entirely sure was fake. Agent K and Will Smith grinned at one another, a little manic. K took a step back and you seized the opportunity to throw up a small shield, focusing to keep it invisible instead of your usual purple.

Totally worth it for the way K nearly fell over when he walked into it.

Both suits growled angrily and rounded on Stretch. “Drop the shield, asshole,” K growled. Since neither was looking at you, you took the opportunity to roll your eyes. They began to approach Stretch, only to hit a second shield. Another growl of anger. Seriously, it was like dealing with a couple of house cats trying to work their way through a puzzle.

After a minute, they figured out to approach both of you at the same time. Luckily you dropped both shields while you were waiting on them to parse out the puzzle, so you had enough juice to throw up a shield to cover both of you simultaneously. 

The squawk was utterly priceless.

It was followed almost immediately by a loud crack and Will Smith hitting the floor in front of you. A quick glance told you that Mutt knocked Agent K out at the same time. You grinned up at Sans and quickly dropped your shield. “My hero,” you teased.

“Listen, you get me untied and you can be my hero,” Stretch called out. “I’ll even kiss you, with generous use of tongue if necessary!”

“You were literally never in danger,” you told him while Sans cut the ropes holding your wrists with a sharp phalange.

Another indignant squawk. “They were about to use that hammer on my delicate little ol’ five HP body!”

“They were not. I had you shielded.”

Stretch snorted. “Like I don’t know those’ll give out. Been around for a while, honey. Try that on the new guy.”

You let Sans pull you out of the chair and stretched. “Did you get the files?” you asked.

Sans raised a brow at you silently, then held up a zip drive. “Of course I did,” he preened. “I am a professional.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Right.”

“And you two,” Sans said, pointing an accusatory finger and you, “you blew up Marcie’s car.”

“You said you needed a distraction,” you said.

“I said ‘Give us a distraction’ and you somehow heard ‘Blow up a car that you’re supposed to be stealing back and get yourselves both captured to be tortured’?”

You heard a soft snort and threw Mutt a withering glance. “That… wasn’t exactly the plan,” you admitted.

“Oh really?” Sans asked, sarcasm coating his words generously.

“I hate to interrupt this loving reunion between lovers, but can we go?” Stretch asked. “I wanna get home before Edge has kittens and we still gotta take that thing to our own version of the men in black.”

“What do we get for hunting down rogue agents for them anyway?” you asked. Sans, who had been prodding at the cut on your forehead, clearly trying to conceal his concern, laughed. 

“Marcie said we could use her car whenever we wanted.”

You laughed, then caught Sans’ hand away from your forehead. A little reckless magic would take care of that; you didn’t need him obsessing over it for the next month. His eye lights lingered on your forehead, but he let you thread your fingers through his and pull him over to Mutt and Stretch. “Well, I guess we’ll have to accept our payment in the form of not paying for her new car.”

“Guess we will,” Stretch said. “I don’t drive anyway, and I’m the one who did all the real work here.” Two sets of eye lights and a set of eyes focused on him, each filled with a little scorn and a lot of disagreement. “What?” he asked, mock offended. “You should’ve seen my scorned lover performance I gave back there! It was impeccable! I deserve an Oscar, a Golden--”

He was cut off by Mutt yanking him into the void, probably taking him to meet your own personal woman in black. Agent Marcie was surely going to be angry about her car, but at least you knew she wasn’t a racist prick. She’d find some way to get even, you were sure, but she needed you guys as badly as you needed her. Someone had to keep track of the aliens for you, and someone had to hunt down traitors for her. It was a beautiful relationship.

A jerk on your hand pulled you back to the present. Sans was looking at you strangely. “Sup?” you asked.

“I…” he trailed off and looked away from you. “I know that you can handle yourself,” he began, stilted and awkward. You’d only been officially dating for a few months and Sans really wasn’t finding it any easier to express his feelings than he had on that awkward and explosive mission that led to all of this. You waited patiently while he tried to gather his thoughts. “It’s not that I think you need me. Clearly, you survived centuries without me, as you are so fond of saying.” He paused again, this time to smooth his jacket. “It’s just that this warehouse was able to block out the communications system that Stretch made for us and I did not know… There was the explosion and then nothing, and although the tracker picked you up, there was no way to know that you were alive and I was--” a pause here for a deep swallow and for his eye lights to frantically dart along the back wall like he would find something helpful there-- “I was concerned,” he finished lamely. You could almost see him mentally punching himself for not being able to say it better.

So you helped.

You leaned in more, wrapping your arm around his and pressing a kiss to his cheek. You felt him shift, leaning into the touch. You leaned back and smiled at him indulgently, putting forth your best sweet grin. “I’m sorry I worried you. I would’ve been beside myself if you pulled the same stunt.” Another gentle kiss to the cheek. “I’m pretty fond of having you around and I woulda been pissed if I had to worry I’d lost you. It’ll happen again, for sure, but I’ll try real hard not to let it. Okay, babe?”

You didn’t miss that his eye lights briefly brightened and, for just a split second, morphed into hearts. Then he was your stoic, sarcastic idiot boyfriend again, nodding and straightening his jacket. “That is acceptable,” he managed and look at that, he barely squeaked. _Precious_.

He yanked you a little closer, then spun you into the void, both of you silently holding on, never wanting to let go.


	21. Chemical Spill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang goes to New Mexico to investigate reports of a mysterious desert creature near the totally innocuous Area 51.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atari really did bury 70,000 cartridges in the desert in 1983 and they really did only find about 1,300 of them later. I might have done some Googling to get ideas for the chemical spill chapter.

“This is the best day of my life,” Sans said, staring at the brief that Edge had so kindly provided your team with before shoving you onto the jet and sending you off to New Mexico.

“How ‘bout when the joy of your life, your baby bro, was created?” Mutt suggested.

“How about when you met the love of your life?” you added.

“There’s that time we all came above ground and, just a bit before that, you escaped Murder World…” Stretch said on the jet’s TV screen. 

Sans didn’t acknowledge any of you, lost in his own little world. He spoke on as if he didn’t even hear you. “You know, one of the few luxuries we had in the Underground was an Iratai? It barely functioned and we only had two games for it, but it was one of the few things that we didn’t sell off. We should have, could have used the money certainly, but it was magical to be somewhere else for a while.”

 _Aw. That’s fine. You didn’t need your soul for anything._ “Sweetheart,” you began, full of complex love and sadness that you needed to express: love for him and his strength, sadness that he had to grow up down there at all (and also that one of his fondest memories was for the world's shittiest game system), but he interrupted you.

“Mutt was terrible at it.”

“I! Was not!” Mutt sputtered. “I was a baby bones and you were a cheater!”

“I--”

“Hey!” Stretch yelled over them. “Can we do this briefing? You only have like half an hour before you land.” 

The boys clammed up, though they did kick each other under the table a bit. Truthfully, you were a bit distracted yourself. Edge called the team together in the middle of the night, citing a threat to monster security. He told you to meet him at the airport and had the ambassador’s private jet running when you got there. He shoved files into your hands and the plane was in the air before you had time to wonder what could be so urgent.

Damn if it wasn’t a nice plane though.

“Red’s intel tells us that there’s some kinda rogue beast in the New Mexico desert,” Stretch said, and a map replaced his face on the screen. He whistled. “Damn, I could get used to this. Y’all feel like we’re in a spy movie right now? I feel like we’re in a spy movie right now.”

“It is pretty cool,” you conceded. “Why can’t we have this plane all the time?”

“Edge says the ambassadors have to go get us money, trade agreements, and allies or some dumb shit,” Stretch said with a roll of his eye lights and finger quotes. “How often do you think they play spies? Not enough, I’ll tell ya. They don’ even properly appreciate it.”

“Most of your assignments are in the Ebbott area,” Edge said from somewhere offscreen. “If we see a spike in out-of-town work we may be able to work something out.”

“Wait. Seriously? All we gotta do is put down some alliumedes in like Texas or something? How many?” you asked. “Give me a number; we’ll take care of it this weekend.”

You didn’t have to see Edge roll his eye lights to know that he did. There was a soft whacking sound and Stretch muttered, “Yeah, yeah edgelord, we’re gettin’ back to work. Ok, so, what we know. We know that the thing’s not causin’ too many human troubles yet. We know that it’s big an’ mean an' too close to a secret government facility for comfort.”

“Are we goin’ to Area 51?” Mutt asked, awe in his voice.”

Stretch laughed. “Of course not. There’s nothin’ at Area 51. You’re goin’ to a spot in the desert _near_ Area 51.”

“Oooook…” Mutt said.

“The only other thing out there, besides all the nothin’ at Area 51, is a spot where they buried a bunch of Iratai games in ‘83. They excavated it back in 2014, but they didn’t find most of it. They only found about 1,300 of the nearly 70,000 cartridges out there,” Stretch said, clearly reading off the packet. “Did ya know that the Itarai was the first home video game system? It didn’ even include any shootin’ games. Too violent, and ya know how humans hate violence.” There was another soft smacking noise and Stretch continued, “Sorry, sorry. The government’s hopin’ it’s an alliumede cause the other option is some kinda mutated thing and the cartridges are leakin’ toxic waste into the ground.”

“They do leak some sort of fluid after a while,” Sans said offhandedly.

Neither you nor Stretch bothered to disguise your disgust at that particular revelation. “I really don’t think they do,” Stretch said, followed by a sound of absolute disgust. 

“Yeah, ‘s pretty gross,” Mutt admitted. “The Monsutamon game broke ‘fore Sans was even in the guard. Got weird green stuff everywhere. I was sick for a week.”

“It made you sick to just be around it?” you asked. “What was _in_ those cartridges?”

“Oh. No, my dear, he ate it,” Sans said.

“Dear god, _why_?” you groaned.

“I am _so_ glad we never hooked up,” Stretch added.

You eyed Sans out of the corner of your eye. “Hey, babe did you ever--”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said coolly. “Stretch, do we have any intel on the creature itself?”

“Glad ya asked. There’s not a lotta info really, just some eye witness reports of some giant thing roamin’ in the desert. The military reported earthquakes too, but no one's pickin' up on any seismographs.” 

“That is supremely unhelpful.” 

Stretch shrugged. “Not everythin’ I say can be a winner.”

You felt the plane turn and glanced out the window. The sun had just set so the desert was cast in dark blues and purples. Despite your long life, you’d never been to New Mexico, but the stars twinkling overheard made a great case for coming on vacation.

 _Ha_. Like you’d ever get Sans to take a vacation. Maybe you and Stretch could go and leave the workaholics at the office.

The plane landed on a small strip seemingly in the middle of nowhere. When you deplaned, there was nothing around for miles except the sand, rising gently into dunes. The landscape was dotted with cacti and little scrubs of sticky bushes.

“According to the map, the burial site is… here.” Sans tapped a spot on the large map with a gloved phalange. 

“Don’ call it that,” Mutt muttered.

“What? Why not?”

“Dunno. It jus’ sounds creepy.” Mutt shivered. “Like it’s dead stuff.”

Sans blinked at him. “You are a member of one of the most elite teams of paranormal investigators in this country. You literally investigate _dead stuff_ for a living.” Sans’s impression of his brother’s soft drawl was spot on and you had to swallow back a laugh while Mutt flipped him off.

“You’re literally a skeleton,” you added around your laughter. “Can we just go? Gotta go see the creepy dead video game hole.” Mutt flipped you off in turn but followed amicably enough as the three of you began walking in the direction Sans indicated. 

Even if Sans hadn’t been able to point the way, you were pretty confident you would’ve been able to find the site because, “This whole place is full of allimagic radiating from this way.” This particular magic felt hot, like you were walking closer and closer to a campfire. It smelled like burnt plastic and asphalt. 

Walking through desert sand was pretty much exactly as awkward as you assumed it would be. It was pretty funny, honestly, to watch Sans try to walk primly through the sand, only to slip when it shifted under his feet. It would’ve been even funnier if your shoes weren’t filling with sand rubbing tiny blisters all over the bottoms of your feet. You tried not to whine about it; you wouldn’t have been able to teleport to the location since neither Sans nor Mutt had ever seen it, but you also knew that Mutt was a glutton for punishment and probably felt bad about still struggling with teleporting. As if he was the only one in your group with issues? Stretch couldn’t be within five feet of a cat and Sans is… well, Sans. Then there’s your whole deal with Oliver (and now clowns, probably). Yeah, your whole team was a real paradigm of normalcy.

Luckily, the site really wasn’t too far away. The pictures Stretch showed you made it seem like a “blink and you’ll miss it” kind of thing; just a small disturbance in the sandscape. That unfortunate expectation meant that none of you expected to crest a dune and stumble upon a sudden drop-off. Sans was leading your little party when you discovered that neat little surprise. He tried to catch his footing but the sand shifted, sending all three of you careening into a pit.

Sans grabbed your arm and yanked you into the void before you could even react. He let go of you when you stepped out, spinning on his heel with magic flaring at his fingertips. In the same second that you realized Mutt was not next to you in the sand, you heard a soft ping. You turned to look at Sans, your soul thundering in your chest. He was on the lip of the pit, one hand extended with purple swirling at his fingertips. Purple sweat dripped down his skull and he was breathing heavily.

“Did you get him?” you asked softly. It was a hell of a gamble, not grabbing Mutt to teleport with the two of you. You knew he was struggling with the void but shit.

Sans didn’t answer, but Mutt did. “I’m fine!” he yelled. You cautiously approached the edge and had to grin at his form hovering upside down in the middle of the air. The light of his now-blue soul illuminated the pit around him. It looked like something out of a dinosaur movie; there was black, tar-like sludge slowly gurgling in a small pond-sized divot in the middle of the desert. You almost expected to see a triceratops struggling to climb out of the tar pit in the distance.

“Yeesh,” Stretch said in your ear. “What is that stuff? Can you guys get closer, maybe scan it with your phones?”

“Yeah, yeah, let me--” you started to make your way to the other side of the pit, where the slope seemed to be a little less… cliff-like, but Sans caught your arm. You paused. His normally-huge violet eye lights were shrunk to pinpricks and his grip was tight. “Babe?” you asked softly.

Sans swallowed and looked at you. "Be careful," he said softly, and you softened. He was clearly shaken from the whole ordeal and worried about you. _Cute_.

You smiled and rubbed his soothingly. "I will, okay?"

He stared at you for another minute, but whatever he saw in your face seemed to relax him. He nodded and let go of your arm. “Okay,” he agreed. You smiled and pulled away. 

Carefully, you made your way over to the other side of the bubbling goo and knelt as close as you safely could. “Kay,” you said to Stretch once your phone was positioned. You heard it make a whirring sound and you knew he was scanning it on the other end.

“Weird,” he said softly. “Is this the source of allimagic you felt, El?”

“I think so,” you said. “I feel like I’m burning up kneeling here.”

“It’s just reading as melted plastic,” Stretch said. “I’m not picking up whatever you’re--”

The end of his sentence was interrupted by what felt like an earthquake. You hastily threw up a shield to keep from falling into the pit of melted plastic, stumbling backward as the ground shook harder and harder. “Sans?” you yelled but, if he could hear you, he couldn’t answer you.

The ground in front of you split open and Something shot up out of it. Whatever it was reminded you of a freight train, both in size and sound. Your shield saved you from both being splattered with melted plastic and being pulverized by whatever the Something was. It knocked you backward and sent you bouncing several feet across the sand before you stopped. Luckily, your shield held out and cushioned the fall. You crouched low, watching as the Something rose about 100 feet in the air and circled over you.

The sand around you shifted so dramatically when It rose out of the pit that you had absolutely no idea where the other side had been originally. Now, the pit was huge and gaping, easily the width of a house. You peeked up a bit and tried to catch sight of Sans and Mutt but couldn’t see anything of them. “Sans?” you repeated, hoping that your earpiece picked him up.

Nothing.

You put your hand to your left ear, feeling to make sure the piece was still in place and… Yeah, of course, it wasn’t. You scanned the ground quickly, but that was pretty much hopeless from the start. You’d also dropped your phone when the pit opened, so you were on your own for the time being. That was fine; you’d spent a lot of time putting alliumedes down on your own. As long as Mutt and Sans were both okay there was no reason to believe this wasn’t going to be totally fine.

You squinted up at the sky trying to get an idea of what you were dealing with. It was huge, obviously, and really did resemble a giant flying train in both length and thickness. That’s where the resemblance to a train ended, however. The whole thing was sleek silver, shiny scales that would have been blinding if the sun was out. Its head--and you could see now that it did, in fact, have a head--was dragon-like with a pointed nose, sharp teeth, and a huge _something_ rising from its nose. It had hair (or perhaps feathers?) streaming behind it, all as metallic as the rest of the thing, with feet (or fins? Or, hell, swords, you can’t tell) coming out of its sides all down its length. Its tail split into several sections, each ending in _something_ pointed. It was monstrous and awful and and

and you could have _sworn_ you’d seen it before somewhere. Not in person, no you’d remember that for sure, but like a picture of it? You had a distinct dislike for it that you didn’t think was related to it nearly killing you and possibly killing the rest of the team. _Don’t think about that, don’t, they’re fine, they have to be_.

You focused your magic into your hands. It took a lot more focus for you to form an attack; it wasn’t something you did all that often, even when you were dealing with alliumedes on your own Before Your Team. Magic wasn’t always effective against them and you found that most of the time a mage-blood knife was equally effective and didn’t drain your magic. Knives weren’t going to be all that helpful when your quarry could fly, though, so you needed to get this thing to the ground if you were going to kill it. 

Besides, a nice shot of magic into the air would go a lot way in letting your boys know where you were.

You aimed carefully at the flying freight train (as if you could miss it) and fired off your attack. It came out as more of a bolt of magic than any specific shape or anything, just a bolt of light tearing through the sky from your hands. It glanced off the side of the thing and dissolved into nothingness, but it served its purpose: it attracted its attention. It swiveled in the air and shot towards you quickly. Very, very quickly. You used a shield bubble to propel yourself into the air a bit and pulled your knife from your inventory. You used to just wear it on your hip, but Stretch had a panic attack the first time he saw it so…. Yeah. You kept it stowed away and only used it for special occasions. Like when a giant freight train dragon monster was barrelling towards you in the desert.

The wind from it passing under you sucked you against the beast, which was more or less what you wanted. You didn’t anticipate the boiling hot allimagic radiating from it and bit back a yelp as the skin on one of your hands touched it as you rolled along its back. Luckily you were wearing long pants and your mission jacket so no more skin came in contact. You had plenty of time to recover from the shock of being burned and when you had, you drove your knife into the alliumede’s back. You gaped as even your mage-blood knife didn’t make a dent and, instead of catching yourself as planned, you were thrown sideways into the sand. You skidded through the sand before finally stopping. 

_Ouch_.

You rolled over and back into a crouching position. The alliumede’s sheer size worked against it; it was hard to slow its momentum and turn back around to take a second swipe at you. Which was good because gods knew you needed a breather and a plan. You watched it rush through the sand and wracked your brain. There weren’t many things resistant to mage blood; your knife should’ve cut through the scales like they were butter. There were ghosts, of course, and some major types of demons, but that was all that was coming to mind, and this thing wasn’t either of those. It wasn’t intelligent enough to be a demon and if it were a ghost it would be incorporeal, so what the hell…? That, coupled with that fact that you were sure you’d see this thing before left you irritated. 

It finally got itself turned around, so you stood still and waited. And waited. And waited. And… _Now_! The alliumede was close enough to you that a quick dodge to the left put you out of danger, but that wasn’t what made you gasp as you landed in a crouch in the sand. You _remembered_!

When it barrelled down on you, you got a good look at the thing’s face. The giant something rising off its nose was a sword, a golden one with a serrated blade. Its nose itself was a metal cannon that could easily blow you off the map; it was a formidable enemy with its impenetrable scales, serrated sword nose, and cannon face. And you _knew_ that because you knew where you’d seen it before: it was Metalsnakedragonmon, the main antagonist in the hit Monsutamon series. You beat it before many times, but the first time was in the Iratai game way back in like 1980. It was a popular game, but they made way too many to sell them all--it was a huge scandal, you remembered--and wouldn’t you know it, games that Iratai couldn’t sell ended up in a hole in the desert. Why or how the antagonist of one of those games was currently trying to circle around to attack you again was beyond you, but you could only hope that this version of it shared the same weakness as its video game counterpart.

It finally righted itself and charged you again. You called up a shield and completely surrounded yourself with it, keeping it as tight to yourself as possible. You hunched a bit and waited, watching the huge mouth open wide to swallow you. 

_Perfect_.

The mouth closed around you and you were plunged into darkness. You felt yourself being forced deeper into the thing’s gullet, watching while the alliumede version of saliva attacked your shield. It wouldn’t hold forever, you knew, but it would have to be enough. You waited as long as you could, down to the second that you thought the digestive enzymes would break through your shield. Then, you drew in a steadying breath, focused, and expanded your shield. 

You felt resistance, enough that you were worried that this wouldn’t work and you would actually get eaten by this thing. But after a second, you broke through. There was a scream, an unbearable heat, and then you were flying through the desert air as you burst through Metalsnakedragonmon’s abdomen, splitting it in two. For a minute the two pieces writhed on the ground and you stood ready to act if they fused back together somehow.

Thankfully, the two pieces stopped wriggling eventually, but they never dissipated or melted like alliumedes usually did. Sometimes their bodies were left behind, sure, but they usually weren’t like a mile long and 40 feet across. You sighed. Edge was going to have a hissy fit about this, you were just sure. “Thank you, Eleanor, for ridding the desert of the alliumede menace single-handedly. You’re an asset to the team and we don’t appreciate you enough, Eleanor,” you muttered to yourself as you stalked closer to the body. Maybe you could burn it? Or melt it with acid?

“Ellie!”

You spun around at the sound of your name, your soul clutching with both joy and worry. There! Mutt was jogging towards you, waving both arms in the air. You were relieved to see him, of course, but, “Where’s Sans?”

“I dunno,” Mutt said, breathy and panicky when he reached you. “That earthquake knocked me down. Fell in a hole.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, not looking at you. “By the time I got out, you were rippin’ that thing in half. ‘S cool by the way.”

“Do you still have your earpiece?” you asked. “I lost mine when I fell.”

Mutt shook his head, but produced his phone from his pocket and held it out to you. You snatched it and called Stretch. He picked up before it even rang. “Oh my gods, Mutt! Y’all were talkin’ and then there was a quake and no one’d answer me!”

“Stretch, calm down!” you said sharply.

“El? El, that you? Gods, are you ok? That thing, I saw it on the satellites, it’s from one of the games called--”

“I know and I already killed it,” you interrupted. “Have you heard from Sans?”

“N-no. Is he not with you?” Stretch asked. You could feel his panic rising, but, "Wait, you killed that thing? Did ya blast it apart from the inside?"

"Yeah."

"Badass!"

"Can we focus on Sans, please?" Mutt begged.

You nodded. “He's not with us, but Mutt and I both lost our earpieces in the quake so Sans probably did too. Can you scan the area for his soul signature with Mutt’s phone?”

“Yeah! Of course, yeah.”

“Great.” Again, the phone whirred as it scanned. It took a minute, then you heard a sharp intake of breath. “What?” you asked, soul sinking.

“I’m pickin’ ‘im up,” Stretch began.

“But?” you prompted.

“But he’s about five miles underground.”

You rubbed your forehead. _Well, shit_.

“Do ya got a location?” Mutt asked.

“Yeah…?”

“Send it ta my phone,” Mutt said. “If I can picture it, I can teleport there. I’ll grab ‘im and get ‘im back.”

“No,” you and Stretch said in unison.

“It’s too dangerous to teleport like that and you know it,” Stretch said.

“And, like, the void,” you added.

Mutt shook his head. “Do ya have a better idea? Either o’ ya?” Silence. “Yeah, I didn’ think so. ‘M not leavin’ ‘im down there an’ I doubt we got time ta dig that deep. If he hasn’ teleported himself out, he’s prob’ly hurt an’ needs help. I’m doin’ it.”

You swallowed. “Mutt, Sans wouldn’t want--”

“Sans wouldn’t even be havin’ this conversation wit’ you!” Mutt yelled. “He’d already be teleportin’ down there ta get me! Or you! Now give me the fuckin’ map or I’ll do it blind!”

The phone dinged and you held it out to him. Before you released it you whispered, “You be safe, Scooby. Bring both of you back to me.”

He nodded, then took the phone from you. He studied the screen for a few minutes, then handed it back to you. He cocked a smile at you, then disappeared with a pop.

You didn’t know what you expected; certainly, you knew that teleporting back wouldn’t be instantaneous. You knew that it’d take him a few minutes to gather Sans. He might even have to look around a bit; it’s not like the location was perfectly exact probably. You knew that.

But as the minutes ticked by, you could feel yourself getting more and more nauseous. You began pacing, wearing down a path through the sand. Finally, you rushed out, “Stretch, you gotta talk to me. Please. Literally anything.”

“O-o-k. Um… Did ya know that the dude who came up with plate tectonics was named Alfred Wegener?”

“No.”

“Yeah, he was pretty cool. He cut up a map and put all the continents together like a puzzle as proof of concept. Lotta people didn’ believe ‘im.”

“Really?” you answered on autopilot, even though you sort of remembered that from your earlier years. You didn't pay a lot of attention to human scientific developments or anything, but you did vaguely remember the shift to the Theory of Plate Tectonics.

“Yup. He became an explorer an’ went to the North Pole. He froze to death there.”

You abruptly stopped pacing. “Hey Stretch,” you said.

“Yeah?”

“That, uh, may not be as helpful as you thought it would be. You know, the story about a dude going out and dying.”

There was a beat of silence and then, “Yeah, I guess I can see that.”

“Yeah. So… how long do you think it should take them to--”

You were interrupted by the pop of teleportation and, just like that, Mutt was standing in front of you holding up his brother by the arm. Both were covered in dirt and some melted plastic. Sans was visibly exhausted and leaning on Mutt, but Mutt looked pretty okay.

“Sans!” you cried and rushed forward. Mutt let you catch his weight and you grunted as he leaned heavily on you. Sans wasn’t as tall as the Papyrus types, of course, but his bones were thick from his LV so he wasn’t exactly light. Once you had ahold on Sans, Mutt staggered back and leaned over with his hands on his knees. You recognized that he was doing breathing exercises to ward off a panic attack and elected to let him be, shifting your attention to your boyfriend.

“‘M fine,” Sans said, slurring his words a little. “‘M fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” you pointed out. You tried to brush as much sand off of his clothes as you could but there was so much of it.

“I am. I just used a lot of magic. Very tired.”

You pulled back from him a little bit and looked him over. His eye lights had a tell-tale fuzzy appearance, the same look they got any time that his magic acted up, so that tracked. He smiled at you a little bit and nuzzled against your neck. “Teleported ‘round a lot trying to get out, but I got lost.” Your soul ached a little as he kissed your cheek. “‘M glad you’re alright. I didn’t know… So worried…”

“I know, I’m sorry…” you began, then you smacked his arm lightly at a realization. “Hey! No! You don’t get to be all worried about me! I was fine. You’re the one who was all underground and trapped and shit! I’m the worried one this time, asshole! Accept my love and worry!”

He chuckled a little. “Can we both be worried?”

“No! It’s my turn.” You wiped the sand off of the side of his skull and planted a kiss there. “I was really worried while Mutt was looking for you. I was so worried that I let Stretch tell me about the dude who invented plate tectonics.”

“Alfred Wagner,” Sans said knowingly.

“How does anyone know that? I think I was alive when he did that! Hell, I could’ve been friends with him!”

“Y’all ready ta go home?” Mutt interrupted. You glanced over your shoulder at him. He was pale and had sweat on his skull, but he looked okay-ish.

“I am,” you said. “You did good, Scoob.”

He smiled a bit, not quite naturally, but enough. He walked forward and looped Sans’s other arm over his shoulders. “Bro, did ya know that your girl ripped Metalsnakedragonmon in half?

Sans didn't answer in words, but his eye lights morphed into hazy hearts temporarily. You took it as the highest praise and had to force yourself not to preen at his pride.

“Edge says that Marcie’ll take care of the alliumede’s husk for us,” Stretch said, reminding you that you still had him on speaker, “and I got Sans on getting new earpieces since all y’all lost ‘em. Edge says the human government's super grateful that you saved their totally empty and unimportant base at Area 51.”

"Hey," Mutt said, "so we all agree that thing was an alien, right?"

You paused and looked at him. "An alien? You don't believe in aliens."

"A man can change his mind," Mutt said philosophically. "But for real, Stretch. That was an alien, yeah? Monstrumon was based on aliens? And it escaped from Area 51?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny," Edge said, and you would have had to be deaf to miss the laughter in his voice.

"I knew it," Mutt muttered. "This changes e'rything."

You couldn't help but laugh and roll your eyes. “Let’s go home, Scoob. Hey Stretch, any chance you can have the new Monstrumon game waiting for us when we get back? I have a real hankering for some gaming and obviously, we need to use it to study alien culture.”

Stretch laughed. “I gotcha, gurl.” 

You grinned. You had some skeletons to get settled for a much-deserved rest, then you were pretty sure a game tournament was in order. And you were pretty confident you could win it all. You leaned over and pressed a kiss to Sans's cheek, then grimaced when you felt the grit of sand in your mouth.

Okay, maybe a couple of skeletons needed some showers first, but after that, rest and a game marathon that was gonna be out of this world.


	22. Miles and Miles of Tunnels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tunnels under Mt. Ebbott hold dangerous secrets and, with two missing kids lost in them, there's not much time to search them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry I didn't get to post yesterday! I was unexpectedly out of town, but I'm back and excited!
> 
> TW: Missing kids, description of injury with blood

Monsters didn’t have Amber Alerts. Their population was small enough that there was no reason to ever have them; if a child went missing, pretty much everyone knew about it pretty quickly. Well, that was true in this and the Swapverse anyway; the other known ‘verses weren’t all that concerned about missing children. Too likely they’d dusted from hunger (in the Cannibal Worlds) or EXP hunters (in the Fellverses) to get worked up about every single one if they weren’t  _ your _ kid. Neighbors might help you look if you were particularly close to them or you had some sort of power over them, but for the most part, no one was going to help.

... Which is why Sans was quietly amazed that nearly the entire population of New New Home was standing at the entrance to the Underground, faces full of worry and determination, ready to help find the missing twin kitten monsters. 

He knew he should not have been surprised; he’d been in this universe long enough to know that the residents were different than those in his own. They wore the same faces (with less scarring perhaps) but they were nothing like their counterparts, and it wasn't just because their personalities were swapped around with one another. Watching them accept instructions, flashlights, and search zones from Edge, Sans was once again reminded that the Aboveground wasn’t for Fell monsters.

“I know that we are all anxious to begin the search,” Edge was saying, “but you are also aware that the tunnels are not safe. If we rush in, we will simply have more people that need saving and reduce the number of us available to look for the children. The security team will go in first and scan key areas for signs of allimagic before we enter. As they clear sections, we will search them.” Edge paused to look out over the crowd. Sans wondered silently if he was amazed at the turnout as well. “Be thorough and safe. When you clear a section or find something, check in with me via walkie talkie immediately. I will either call you back to the surface or send you to a new area. There will be security staff in each area to assist if needed. Send out a burst of magic if you are unable to reach out on walkie talkie for some reason. Are there any questions?”

No one spoke, but everyone was fidgeting in place, anxious to get started.

That was their cue. Sans glanced over at his team. Eleanor was fiddling with the new earpiece that Comic supplied her with. Apparently, it was designed to sort of meld(?) to the skin of your ear and stay put until it was removed with a tiny burst of magic. Losing contact with them in the desert really screwed Stretch up, apparently, so they were doing everything they could to prevent that from happening again. Sans didn’t mind that at all; he would prefect that Eleanor wear the damn thing all the time like he and Mutt did, but it didn’t seem like that would ever happen.

Mutt was messing with his phone, probably playing a game, and clearly not paying attention to anything Edge was saying. Sans rolled his eye lights. Of course, their team already received their orders, but that didn’t mean that Mutt had to be such a blatant punk. As if sensing his brother’s exasperated thoughts, he looked up from his phone and winked at Sans. Sans rolled his eye lights again, to his brother’s amusement.

“Okay, sorry, this thing’s a bitch to get into my ear,” Eleanor said, appearing at Sans’s shoulder. “I’m ready.” Your eyes were soft and warm as you linked your arm around his. “Scoob, you good?”

Mutt glanced up and Sans noticed the light purple flush to his cheeks. _Of course_. His brother wasn’t playing on his phone to be a _menace_ ; he was trying to hide his embarrassment at being left topside to help handle security there. He was still struggling with teleporting, though he was doing better since their trip to the desert, and he got panic attacks if forced into confined spaces (like the tunnels that snaked all over the place in the Underground), so this entire mission was a mental health clusterfuck for him.

“‘M fine. Jus’ go find the kids,” he muttered, not looking at you.

Sans felt the concern and, layered deeply underneath, a little bit of hurt radiating from Eleanor, so he adjusted their arms so he could thread their fingers together. “Well, we will  _ see more _ of you later,” Sans said with his best shit-eating grin.

Mutt looked up and narrowed his sockets at his brother. “‘s that a fuckin’ pun on one o’ the missing kid’s names?”

Sans shrugged as you smacked his arm, saying his name in her best scandalized voice.

“You’re the worst, bro,” Mutt said, but he was smiling a little. Sans relaxed a bit as he felt Eleanor’s mood lift too. _Mission accomplished_.

“We need to get going,” Eleanor said gently, and Sans nodded his agreement. Despite what Edge told the gathered crowd, the “security team” clearing the tunnels was actually just Eleanor and a teleporter. Although Stretch made apps for their phones that helped detect allimagic, the technology wasn’t reliable Underground and it wasn’t as reliable as your senses anyway. It would be quicker to simply teleport you to different areas and let you feel for allimagic before teleporting to a different area and speed was of the essence in this case. The two children had been gone for three hours now, wandering gods-knows-how-deep into the winding and branching tunnels of the Underground. The tunnels were largely unmapped, constantly changing due to the magic of the Underground and the seismic action of the area. Since the monsters moved out of the cave system, the tunnels were slowly being claimed by both nature and the least natural of things. There were wild animals lurking in the dark, but far worse were the alliumedes who’d taken up residence in the labyrinthian wasteland. 

Of course, dust was dust. In the end, if they didn’t find the children, would it really matter if they died from an animal, the elements, or alliumedes?

Comic explained that the easiest way to access the tunnels was from Waterfall, so Sans ported you there. It was dangerous to teleport places that he hadn’t seen, but the teleporters discovered that they could teleport places if they were described well enough or if they saw a detailed image. It wasn’t a perfect science so they only did it in emergent situations. If anything qualified as an emergency, two missing children did.

You held out your phone and it whirred softly as the app began scanning the area. Sans listened to the soft pitter-patter of Waterfall and tried not to think about Waterfall back in Swapfell. It was very different than this Waterfall. Both were dark because of a lack of light, but his Waterfall was dark in a way that this soft universe could never be. How many monsters had dusted there, their dust lost forever to the churning depths? How many monsters  _ chose _ that fate there, all hope lost in the darkness? No, this universe’s Waterfall wasn’t his and the dustless air reminded him of that with every breath.

“Babe?” you said, and Sans shook himself and looked over at you. Your brows were knit in concern. “You okay? I can get Comic.” There wasn’t any judgment in your voice, only soft love and concern, and it made Sans’s soul swell because there was a time not that long ago that he believed his soul too broken and scarred to find love. Your apologetic outburst for your _gorgeous_ soul after the Dr. Hueline incident still amazed and shamed him. What would you think if you ever saw his, pulsing red with LV, threaded with dark cracks? He didn’t know, but moments like this made him think that maybe someday he would be able to find out.

“I’m fine. I’ve never cared for Waterfall,” he said honestly. You narrowed her eyes at him like you did when you were searching for a lie, but he didn’t lie to you. Not anymore, not since… Well. He didn’t lie to you anymore.

You must have reached that conclusion as well because you handed him your phone and smiled. “Stretch has a topographic map for you.”

He studied the tunnels on the phone, looking at the marks that indicated areas that Eleanor needed to search. There were around 10 and Sans already knew he would have to trade off with another teleporter before the end of it. He had the longest-range teleport, though, so he grabbed Eleanor’s arm and pulled you into the void with him, then stepped out at the point furthest from the Waterfall entrance.

The darkness was overwhelming. Even with his night vision, he could only make out pitch blackness around them, save for Eleanor beside him. You kept a hold of him, just as you'd discussed, and shut her your, feeling for allimagic. After a few moments, you shook your head. “Clear,” she said. On the surface, Sans knew that Edge would be mobilizing a team to this area as quickly as possible now that it was clear.

You stepped in and out of the void again, this time appearing in a huge cavern full of echo flowers and shining blue light. You caught your breath and whispered, “This is beautiful.” You'd seen echo flowers before, of course you had, but this was more beautiful than any simple clump of them along the edge of the path in Waterfall.

“This is beautiful,” the flowers whispered around you.

You shut your eyes to feel for allimagic. Sans suddenly deeply wished that echo flowers would grow Aboveground because--

Suddenly, his datemate was throwing a shield up over both of you as the ground shook. Sans grabbed you tightly as the ground roiled underneath them. As one, the echo flowers all shook and rose, revealing that they were growing on the back of a gigantic rock alliumede. He shifted to keep his feet under him and summoned an attack. A wall of bones rained on the beast, its screams echoing in the cave around them. 

It was a one-hit KO, but Sans didn’t have a chance to preen. The whole floor of the cave destabilized beneath you as the alliumede dissipated. Sans felt the drop in his non-existent gut as the floor gave out and you both began to fall. He was grateful for you not letting go of him in the cave as he pulled both of you into the void and then tumbled out into the cool grass of the surface.

“Shit!” Mutt yelled, jumping back and nearly firing off an attack when you appeared out of nowhere. “What happened? Y’all ok?”

Sans glanced around to make sure that none of the public of New New Home was gathered around when he nodded at Mutt. You were already sitting up and looking around. “Love, are you hurt?” Sans asked.

“Nope. We better report to Edge that cave is impassable without teleportation now, though.” You looked back over at him. “You okay?”

Sans snickered. “I’m fine. It was barely an inconvenience to dispatch that particular alliumede.” He looked you over and took in that your face was puckered up in annoyance. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you huffed. “That was just a really beautiful cave! I had a whole picnic idea for it! Now it’s just an abyss.”

Sans relaxed at the realization that it wasn’t anything serious. “I’m sure we can find another beautiful cave,” he pointed out. “Perhaps even one that won’t just repeat everything we say for the entire meal.” He didn’t mention that he found the flowers kind of creepy, having heard confessions of dying monsters and suicide notes and the screams of those being murdered repeating out of them forever. He would do a lot of things to keep you smiling, though, and finding a beautiful place to take you to a picnic and let you look at echo flowers was a minor ask, really.

“You’re probably right,” you conceded. “Okay, you ready to go back in?” You stood up and dusted yourself off, then held your hand out to him. He grabbed it and let you think that you were helping pull him to his feet.

“I’ll call into Edge for ya,” Mutt said.

“Thanks,” you said.

Sans pulled you into the void in time for you to miss Mutt muttering, “That’s the only useful thing I can do. Don’ gotta thank me,” which was lucky because you would have smacked him upside the head for that type of comment.

Sans made a mental note to plan a fun outing for all three of you as soon as possible as you stepped out of the void into a small, claustrophobic tunnel barely large enough for the two of you to stand. Sans was immediately grateful that Stretch’s app was so accurate. He’d never teleported a fleshy creature into a wall before, but he couldn’t imagine it would end well. You interrupted his thoughts with a soft, “Clear.”

Sans felt the soft burn of magic use in his soul as he teleported to the next location. It irked him, but while his magic reserves were sizable, they weren’t infinite and he would need to trade off with another teleporter after this site. He loathed the idea of passing you off to another protector, but at least he knew that whoever it was would take care of you. You were a member of the family after all.

Your grip on his arm tightened and he looked at you. Your eyes were huge and were staring straight ahead. He turned to follow what you were looking at, already readying an attack--

“I do not wish to fight you.”

The voice was low and deep and rumbled through the entire cavern, clearly emanating from the gigantic white bat hanging in the center of the cave. It shifted and opened one car-sized yellow eye to look at you. “I have been here longer than monsters, since before the mountain was theirs. I have lived in peace with them. I do not wish to fight you.”

“I’ve never heard of an alliumede that didn’t want to fight,” Sans said cautiously.

The bat’s pupil flicked so that it was looking at him. “I was not always a lover of peace, but the centuries are long and weigh heavily. Now I only wish to rest, to feel the wind in my wings. Fighting stole the wind from me and I am old enough to know that it will not bring it back.”

Sans stiffened as you let go of him and stepped forward a bit. _Of course_ you wanted to approach the gigantic and clearly intelligent alliumede! Why wouldn't’ you? Your personal safety was always deeply underrated to you. 

“Who trapped you?” you asked.

“Mages. They erected this mountain as a trap for me, its tunnels always shifting and changing, its tunnels always too small for me to pass through.” Sans stepped forward and gripped you tightly. Everything about that worried him that it would lash out at his mage. “My wife and children were inside. I had to venture in. But their HoPe gave out centuries ago and now it is only me, an old fighter who lost too much to wish to fight anymore. Please leave me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “I am so sorry they trapped you and your family.”

“It was wise. I was a danger to them.”

A tear slipped out of your eye and onto your cheek. “That doesn’t make it right. They were wrong to do that, just like they were wrong to trap the monsters under the mountain.” You straightened your back and looked at the bat like a realization just struck you. “I helped correct that wrong and I am going to help correct this one.”

“Little mage,” the bat said, “how do you plan to do such a thing? I cannot escape here and even if you are one who can control the earth around us, you could not move a whole mountain on your own.”

“I don’t have to move the mountain,” you said with a grin. “I only have to move  _ you _ .”

***

You visibly did not want to leave the bat, but they had to continue their search and no one could be spared to help here. You promised that they would return, that it would feel the wind again, but Sans knew what hopelessness looked like on a face. For his part, Sans also did not wish to leave the bat, but he knew better than to think that he could port something that large on his own. They were more likely to end up with it ripped apart in the void than on the surface.

Sans handed you off to Red with little discussion. He preferred Fell monsters to be with you if he could not, trusted them to be willing to do whatever it took to protect what was theirs. He had little doubt that the Swap and Tale monsters would do what they could, but they didn’t have the inherent distrust of others that Sans felt was necessary to be an effective protector.

He waited beside Mutt, sipping Sea Tea to help replenish his magic. The two stood in companionable silence for a few minutes, listening to Red and Eleanor banter back and forth as you cleared areas. Edge was joining the comms channel to communicate when volunteers were checking in as well. So far, no one had any luck finding the kids.

“Think they’re alive?” Mutt asked softly, so softly that Sans was confident that their earpieces wouldn’t pick up the question.

He sipped his tea again and looked at the mountain. In the years since monsters emerged from its depths, it’d become something of a local ghost story, a place where youths went to prove their mettle. Most of the time, they never made it past Hotland and certainly didn’t venture off of the beaten path, but every so often children would get further in. Such was the case with the twins. They accepted a dare from older children to go into the tunnels in Waterfall. The other kids waited for them to come back but, when they didn’t after an hour, they rushed home and confessed to their parents. Sans had no doubt that many children in New New Home would be both grounded and forced to review why the mountain was such a dangerous place tonight before bed.

But as to his brother’s question… Sans didn’t know, didn’t know if children that were born on the surface could possibly survive the darkness of the caves, but, “I hope so.”

The pop of teleportation surprised him and you and Red stumbled out of a shortcut. Sans gasped at your appearance. Both of you were visibly _smoking_. A little of your hair and his jacket sleeve were on fire and you were both patting at each other’s flames. You was missing a chunk of eyebrow and Red had soot all over his face. 

“What the fuck happened?” Sans shouted, grabbing your arms to hold you still so he could inspect her for injuries. He only found a small burn on your cheek and pressed his palm to the side of her face. Soon you were glowing green with healing magic, leaning into the touch and sighing as the pain subsided.

“Goddamn fire aliumede,” Red grumbled. “Got it extinguished but no ‘fore it fired some fireballs at us.”

“I’m fine,” you said firmly, catching Sans’s hand and pulling it to your lips. “You took care of it, babe. Thank you.”

“Ey, boss, Area Eight’s clear now,” Red said.

“Roger,” Edge said shortly.

“An’ I need ta tag out,” Red added.

“Mars,” Edge said, and another pop of teleportation announced that Mars was ready for his turn. 

Even as Mars stepped up and grabbed your arm, Sans didn’t let go. “Are you doing alright? Do you need a break?” he asked.

You quirked a smile at him. “I’m fine. We only have, what, two more areas to clear? It won’t be a problem.” You leaned up and kissed him gently, then turned to Mars. “Ready for a grand adventure?” 

“With you? Sure,” Mars answered with a grin. He pulled you into the void and Sans handed Red a mug of Sea Tea.

“You really think it’s a good idea ta let ‘er break that bat out?” Red asked around his drink and Sans stiffened a bit. Of course Red wanted to talk about this during their break.

“I think that we will not be able to stop her, even if it means she has to dig a tunnel into the mountain herself with her bare hands,” Sans said. “We might as well help her so we can make sure it’s done correctly and safely.”

“An’ if it turns out the thing wants revenge?”

“It’s not like we’ve never killed an intelligent alliumede before,” Sans said.

“One that big?” Red asked coolly and, damn it, he was right. _Of course_ he was right, Sans knew it, too. That bat had the potential to cause a lot of damage if released from its prison.

“We’ll jus’ have ta be careful,” Mutt said. “We can’ leave it down there.”

“Maybe _you_ can’t,” Red muttered under his breath, but he was saved from having to defend that statement by a pop of teleportation. Mars had your arm, holding you up a bit while you held a hand over your nose. Blood, your blood, recognizable to Sans anywhere, a muddy pinkish-purple color, the same as your soul, was dripping between your fingers. 

“What happ--”

“I ran into a wall,” you interrupted. “‘S my own fault.” Your voice sounded weird like you had a cold, and blood was clearly still flowing. “Guess Stretch’s app idn’t hundred percent accurate.”

“Here, let me see,” Sans said, trying to keep the begging out of his voice. He needed to know how bad it was, needed to, and your hand was in the way. You rolled your eyes, but moved your hand and let him look. It was swollen, as was the skin under both of your eyes. There was a small knot in the center that was not there before, likely showing where the bone was broken.

“See? Not so bad,” you said.

“Well, it certainly isn’t great,” Sans said irritably. “Healing it will be difficult as well; knitting back together a break in the cartilage is always trickier than bone.”

“Can you jus’ make it stop bleedin’?” you asked. “I can heal up later.” Sans gave you a brutally unimpressed look at that suggestion. “Sans, we gotta keep goin’. There’s kids.”

You were right, of course, so he pumped a bit of healing into the nose so that it stopped bleeding. “Please be careful,” he warned.

“I got ‘er,” Mars said, his voice more serious than it normally was. Sans recognized it for what it was: both a promise and an apology. He nodded curtly at his counterpart and let go of you so that you could walk back to him. 

“Last area,” you said, then disappeared into the void with Mars.

Not five minutes later, a yell sounded from the cave entrance. All three skeletons began making their way up to see what was happening. No one teleported; they wanted to conserve magic and also didn’t want to upset Mutt. They arrived in time to see Comic and Stretch (when the hell had Stretch gone in there?) emerging from the mountain carrying one little furry bundle each. The mother of the two children wailed and rushed forward, pulling her children from their arms and into hers. She buried her huge face in their fur, hugging them tightly enough that Sans wouldn’t have been surprised to learn they were suffocating in her grasp.

“They’re hungry an’ scared, but they’re ok, kay?” Comic said, gently patting the cat monster on the back. “They’re ok, Eline.”

She sobbed again and cried out, “Thank you. Thank you so much. My babies, my babies.”

“It was my fault, mama,” the red-furred one (Seymore, Sans knew) wailed.

His mother shushed him, pulling him and his sister closer. Sans felt warmth tingling in his soul as he watched them, a warmth that he so rarely got to feel in his Snowdin. An arm slipped into his, but he recognized the magic signature and didn’t startle. You leaned your head against his shoulder and smiled softly. “They’re safe. We did it,” you said to him.

“We did,” he agreed.

“But…” you looked down for a second, then back at him. “We have another rescue that we need to do.”

“‘Bout that, El,” Red said. “I don’ think it’s a good idea. It just ain’t safe to let that thing out.”

Sans wrapped his arm around your shoulders, both to comfort and to keep you from marching over and ripping Red’s throat out. “Red, we can’t leave it there,” you said. “It’s all alone, trapped under a mountain. We can’t.”

“An’ if it wants out ta take revenge on mages ‘cause they trapped it? What’ll ya do then?” he growled.

“It won’t!” 

“You believin’ it don’ make it true!”

You shrugged Sans’s arm off and stepped forward angrily. “What if we’d said that about monsters? What if Frisk and I didn’t find the barrier and open it because you ‘might want revenge’? We didn’t even fucking know you! You’d still be under that damn mountain if we didn’t decide to trust you!”

“That was a stupid gamble!” Red snarled. “An’ I’m not in the habit of takin’ stupid gambles, not when the lives of my family’re involved!”

“I promised,” you said, and Sans realized with a jolt that you were crying. “I can’t leave him there, Red. I can’t. Please.”

Red shook his head. “That shit might work on ya boy toy over there but it ain’t gonna work on me. I don’ care if you’re mad at me, long as you’re alive to be mad.”

“Red.” Apparently Comic had extricated himself from the mother enough to come over during that conversation. Red spun around and narrowed his eyes at him. “Come on. Let’s talk.”

“I don’ wanna talk,” Red said, pouting like a petulant child.

“I don’ care,” Comic replied. He held out his hand to Red, who took it begrudgingly. Sans winked at you over his shoulder, then the two of them disappeared into the void.

Sans stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, waiting to see if Comic was able to convince Red or not.

***

The two nights later, the whole skeleton family gathered once again at the entrance to the barrier. They needed a chance to recharge before attempting to teleport out an alliumede of that size. 

Whatever Comic had said to Red had apparently been effective because they both came back, along with Stretch, to make a plan as to when, where, and how they could move the thing. Mutt was still out; Sans himself told Mutt he didn’t want him trying to pull an alliumede through the void again, not right now. This shouldn’t go like _that time_ , of course; Mutt was trying to yank something out of the void that didn’t want to leave. Still, the idea of letting Mutt in on an alliumede transport made Sans’s metaphorical skin crawl. Instead, he was assigned to wait in the field they were transporting to, along with you. The skeletons didn’t want any extra mass to move, so transporting you along with them was off the table.

Sans showed them where the cave was and they all teleported in. The bat was hanging in the same location and it opened an eye when they arrived. “You are back,” the bat observed, “and there are more of you.”

“We came to get you out of the mountain,” Sans said.

“The little mage is not with you.”

“‘S enough to try teleportin’ you. Didn’ wanna have any more mass than we had ta,” Red said.

“Why would you help me?” the bat asked.

Red shrugged. “Honestly? Cause the little mage wants ta. She’s soft like that, freed monsters from the mountain too. If it were up ta me, I’d leave ya here ta rot. Nothin’ against ya, man. If I’d been on the other side of the barrier, I wouldn’t o’ freed monsters either.”

The bat did not answer for a long few minutes but finally chuckled. “Your honesty is appreciated.”

Sans didn’t miss that Red’s cheeks turned the same color as his namesake at the compliment. Sans stepped forward a bit to address the bat. “We are going to take you to a large field outside of the main city of Ebbott. There is plenty of cover and places to live. As long as you do not cause trouble for monsters, we are happy to let you live freely.”

The bat chuckled and it rumbled like thunder. “I accept your terms.”

The skeletons surrounded the bat, each grabbing a hold of it. Sans focused on pulling it into the void, pumping all of his magic into it. When he was ready he counted down for everyone. “Three… two… one… Pull!” On pull, the cave faded out from around them, dropping them into the void. For a moment, Sans’s soul wavered, struggling to open the door out of the void. Before he could panic, he felt the souls of the others, each pulling on the door with his. 

And they were in the field.

You and Mutt were both sitting in the grass and it was considerably darker than it had been when they ported into the mountain. You ran forward and yanked Sans into your arms, your grip tighter than normal. You buried your face in his jacket and took deep, steadying breaths. He looked around and realized that it wasn’t just you and Mutt in the field anymore; all of their brothers were here, too, each looking over their teleporting brother carefully.

“How long were we gone?” Sans asked softly.

“Twenty-nine hours.” Your voice was small.

Twenty-nine hours? It had been seconds to him. He glanced over at Mutt, who was standing back, waiting behind Eleanor. Sans held out his arm, understanding how it felt to lose your brother into the void for a little while. Mutt shuffled forward and let Sans pull him into an embrace, too. You shifted so that you had one arm around Mutt and the other around Sans.

“Did you two wait in this field the whole time?” Sans asked.

“Yeah,” you said. To his dismay, you pulled back a bit to look up at him with tears in your eyes. “Sans, I’m so sorry. It was my idea. This is my fault. I knew it was dangerous to transport alliumedes and--”

Sans stopped you by pressing his hand over your mouth. “Stop,” he said gently, and you did. “You did the right thing, and we’re all okay.”

You stared up at him, then finally nodded and snuggled back into his arms for a few more seconds. Sans could see the others over you: Comic getting a dressing down from Papyrus, Edge holding Stretch tightly in his arms, face buried in Stretch’s sweatshirt, Jupiter and Mars embracing… And Red, standing to the side watching it all.

All too soon, you broke away and walked over to Red. Sans followed you a few steps behind, a little wary of what you were going to say to him. You stopped a few feet from him and he turned towards you with a raised brow.

“Red,” you said tearfully, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that this would happen, and I put all of you in danger.”

Red shook his head. “‘S fine,” he said, “and not your fault. We’re all fine, an’ look.” He gestured to the bat standing in the center of the field with his wings spread. “You were right. He deserved to be on the surface, too.”

“You’re not mad at me?” you asked, your voice small.

“‘Course not,” Red said. Thanks for not lettin’ me be an asshole.”

With that, you closed the gap between the two of you and hugged Red. He stiffened but didn’t push you off, which was a pretty big deal for Red. He let you hold him for a minute before he began wiggling uncomfortably. You had mercy on him and released him.

The two of you stepped back from one another, Red’s face bright red. You went back over to Sans and slipped your hand into his. You looked like you were about to say something, but were interrupted by a low, rumbly voice.

“Thank you for my freedom,” the bat said. “I will honor our agreement. Little mage, if there is anything you ever require of me, you may call upon me.”

“What’s your name?” you asked him.

He blinked at you. “I have no name.”

“You have no…” you trailed off. “What do I call you then?”

The bat shrugged, which looked crazy with wings. “Whatever you wish to call me.”

Your eyes widened. “Bartok,” you said almost immediately. “I’m calling you Bartok.” Sans chuckled, immediately recognizing the name from one of your favorite animated films, Anastasia. There was a bat named Bartok in that, too. You loved that movie, always going on and on about how you were sure this was how it happened, even though you were alive when the assassination occurred and knew for a fact that Anastasia was, in fact, dead.

You also knew that Rasputin was dead. It was a pretty big deal when the Mage Council decided to execute someone for their involvement in the affairs of humans.

The bat nodded his agreement to the name. “I will see you again, little mage.”

You beamed up at him as his huge wings spread and he took flight. Everyone watched the bat fly off into the night, pleased with the turn of events, before walking over to the cars that the non-teleporting brothers drove to retrieve the teleporters. The whole ride home, you stared out the window quietly humming the song from the second Anastasia movie, the one that Bartok sang. 

And Sans? His soul was full. They saved the children, freed a prisoner, both because of you. 

Maybe someday he would show you his soul and maybe someday you would choose to show him yours, but he didn’t need to see it again to know the truth: yours was the most beautiful soul in the multiverse and he couldn’t be luckier to be with you.


	23. A Local Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black patrols his new home on the surface and finds more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this chapter, y'all. It's set WAY earlier than all of the others, just a few months after monsters have come to the surface, so the multiverse skeletons have only been in this universe for about that long. Sans and Ellie are VERY MUCH not together and have only known each other for about two months at this point. Also, I know I haven't written them actually getting together, but I do want to say that this isn't when it happens. That would be very unhealthy for them for a lot of reasons. They get together quite a bit after this (almost a year) but this is a turning point in their relationship, certainly. 
> 
> TW: Aftermath of physical abuse, descriptions of injuries

Black couldn’t shake the habit of patrolling New New Home while the others slept, making sure that there were no unknown and unexpected threats. He knew that they were on the surface, and had been for a few months, but he also knew that being lazy was a fast trip to a shallow grave. He was the second-in-command of the entire Embassy, recently assigned the team responsible for dispatching alliumede threats, and he felt a sense of responsibility for every citizen of New New Home just as he always had the citizens of Snowdin back home.

Not home, not anymore, and never again.

Anyway, the streets were deserted at the late hour, Black’s only company, the quiet chirping of crickets and the bright moon overhead. He simply needed to make his rounds of the main areas and then perhaps he would be able to sleep. It was worth a shot. His LV was a low simmer in his soul these days instead of the roaring fire it had been in Underfell. This universe’s king had LV, not from murdering children and other monsters to ruthlessly hold their throne like his monarch (forever may she reign), but from the war that drove them Underground. He couldn’t forget the conversation with him when they’d finally finished building the Embassy only a week ago.

_ “Black,” he said, standing proudly at the windows overlooking the new garden in the center of the Embassy, “I know that you, too, have LV.” _

_ “Of course, your majesty.” He was not ashamed of it, had never tried to hide it. His LV was higher than even the other Fellverse skeleton’s, even higher than the cannibal’s. _

_ “And I understand that, in your world, it was a necessity, as it once was in mine.” _

_ “Yes, your majesty.” _

_ “Does it still burn you?” _

_ Black blinked for a moment, unsure of how to respond. LV always burnt, never stopped, so what was the ruler getting at? Was he seeking a weakness to exploit? He kept his face impassive and said, “I suppose so, your majesty, but I rarely notice. I’ve had LV since I was no more than a child. It always burns, that is the way of LV.” _

_ “No, it isn’t.” _

_ Black tried to mask his confusion. “Your majesty?” _

_ The king sighed, his huge form shifting. “I feared that you would think that as well. Edge and I spoke of it at length and he seemed to be under the impression that LV must always burn. That simply is not the case. It can fade. It need not trouble you every day.” _

_ “It does not trouble me, your majesty.” _

_ “It does,” the king insisted. “But look around. You can see the sky, the trees, the flowers. We are in the Aboveground now. We are not safe, but we are not trapped. You don’t need the constant burning, the weariness. There are those in this world that you can trust, Black. You do not need to be alone any longer. Work on letting it go.” _

Letting it go indeed. Since that conversation, the LV burn in his soul was noticeable, constant. He’d always had it, always dealt with it, but now it was somehow harder. He wanted to respect this monarch, and certainly did to his face, but the very idea of trusting anyone but himself and his brother? It was impossible. Even the copies that wore his and his brother’s faces were not to be trusted. They didn’t kill each other during that first month Underground before coming to the surface, but that was hardly a ringing endorsement for their trustworthiness. He supported this universe’s Papyrus and the little blueberry in wanting their “new family” to bond, certainly, allies were necessary for survival and he left ~~his one~~ all of his back in Underfell, but that did not mean he  _ trusted _ them. Trust was a fool’s errand, and Black was many things, but a fool was not one of them.

On top of his sudden gaggle of skeletal “family”, he was now saddled with the care of a mage as well. He disliked the other skeletons, certainly, but he  _ loathed _ you. You were a constant thorn in his side, never quietly following orders, never showing him any respect, never just doing what you were goddamn told.

Like tonight, for instance.

They had a mission. Edge called the team in to deal with an alliumede in the forest around the mountain, a wolf-like beast that was terrorizing local hikers. When Stretch called you, you said that you couldn’t come. You were  _ busy _ . He’d snatched the phone from Stretch to yell at you himself and you’d been nothing but insulting.

_ “Are you deaf or just stupid?” Black snarled. “We have a mission. What could an out-of-work mage possibly be doing today that they’re  _ busy _?” _

_ “I’m an independent consultant, Inky, I don’t have to explain why I’m saying no to you.” Your voice was muffled somewhat like you couldn’t even be bothered to hold the phone properly. _

_ “You better give me a damn good explanation or I can assure you that your services will no longer be required. You can go back to bumming off of your datemate and letting him pay for everything like the mooch you are.” _

_ There was a beat of silence, a little too long for you. A hit, then. Interesting. Then, you said, “Oh I’m well aware you want to fire me, Coal. You’ve made that really fucking clear. Interesting that your boss won’t let you, huh? So who’s on my side, Edge or Asgore? At least one of them thinks you’re full of shit because I still get hired. Take your Napoleon complex and shove it up your bony ass.” _

With that, you’d hung up on him and you hadn’t shown up to help with the alliumede. He took some comfort in the fact that he was gathering a file of his grievances to present to Edge to get you off of his team, your special abilities be damned. Surely there were other mages that would do the job  _ and _ call him by his damn name.

Nickname. Whatever.

His LV wasn’t any calmer by the time he completed the outer circle of New New Home. Well, there was nothing for it. He only had one more area to check and it was on his way home. He circled the main road and headed back towards the cookie-cutter residence he shared with Mutt, his mind on breakfast recipes and mages who just needed to learn some fucking respect. He nearly missed it, lost in his thoughts, but luckily his brain never totally stopped scanning its surroundings. He slowed as he approached the school, narrowing his sockets at the out-of-place car parked in the staff parking lot, directly under the streetlamp. It was a blue hatchback of some sort (Black honestly didn’t care much about cars past wanting one that was both efficient and reliable) and he could feel a little bit of magic coming off of it. Someone was inside and it didn’t belong to any of the residents of New New Home. He knew all of their cars.

Teleporting can be silent if you put in some effort, which he did now. He silently teleported over to the car and peered in the window, scanning the car for its occupant, an attack at the ready. His eye lights fell on a lump in the backseat, curled up and tucked against the seat. He blinked in surprise and irritation. It was you, of course it was you, his own personal pain-in-the-ass. You were curled up with your back to him, wearing what appeared to be leggings and a tank top. He was experiencing his first autumn on the surface and even _he_ knew that outfit wasn’t warm enough. How the hell you’d managed to keep yourself alive for hundreds of years he would never know.

He tapped on the window with an impatient knuckle, then crossed his arms while he watched you shift a bit. “What are you doing here?” he asked, allowing all of his annoyance to bleed through into his voice. He noticed that you stiffened when you heard his voice and he smirked. You feared him, even if you disliked him and  _ still _ argued with him in public. At least he was getting through to you in some way. A pulse of smug gratification shot through his soul, the LV roiling a bit more. “I seem to remember that you were too busy to come into New New Home today. Is this what you were busy doing, lazing about?”

“Go away, Black,” you said, not bothering to look at him. Your voice was muffled as you buried your face in the seat.

Black frowned. “I asked you a question.” He didn’t notice that you called him his actual nickname.

“I’m just… I’m trying to sleep?”

“Why are you trying to sleep here? Are you drunk or just too lazy to drive yourself home?” He pulled on the door handle, but it was locked. “Open the door at once.”

“No.”

“Eleanor, I must insist--”

“Leave me alone!” you yelled. “This isn’t any of your fucking business! Go away!”

He puffed up like a poison dart frog. “The safety of New New Home is my business! You will open this door or I will rip it off of your car!”

“Oh for… I’m not a threat, you asshole! I’m the one who put, like, half of the protective charms on this place!”

He narrowed his eye sockets. Your voice sounded weird, like you were sick, and you were sniffling a little. He felt a pang of concern. After all, whether or not he liked or trusted you, you were a part of his team, his responsibility, at least until he could get Edge to fire you. “Are you ill?” he asked. He’d heard of humans doing strange things when they were ill, sometimes making odd choices that were counter-intuitive to their survival.

“I said I was fine!”

He sighed and schooled his voice into one of calm reason. “You know I’m not going to leave until you open the door.”

“... please, Black.” Black startled at how small, how sad your voice sounded. You never sounded like that, ever. You were always full of fire, full of anger, passion brimming over the top and spilling out onto the people all around you. You _never_ sounded small or scared. Even when he was screaming in your face you stood toe-to-toe with him and yelled right back. It was infinitely infuriating.

~~ He never thought he would suddenly miss your yelling. ~~

“Open the door,” he insisted, this time with less irritation and more worry. “Where is your datemate? Isn’t he worried about you?”

“Don’t! I don’t want to talk about… him.”

That was strange too. You were nearly always willing to talk about your datemate. Black jiggled the handle again then said, “This is your last chance to open the door before I rip it off the hinges, and you will be responsible for paying for all damages.”

You sighed (did it sound like you were crying? Did you cry? He’d never seen it if you did, not even the time you broke half your ribs in a fight) and leaned over and flipped the lock. Sans opened the door and leaned into the car, trying to get a look at your face, but you kept it buried in the seat. “Look at me,” he demanded.

Finally, you shifted and sat up. Black had to bite back a gasp when he finally saw your face. You looked  _ awful _ . Your nose was clearly broken, your cheeks swollen and bruised. Your left eye was swollen completely shut and your lip split. You were favoring your right side, he noticed, and holding that arm at an odd angle. Was it broken? He wondered what other injuries hid under your clothes. Someone beat you, he realized, and brutally at that. And, from the bruising, some of it wasn’t new, probably around 12 hours old, while some of it was far newer than that. Your nose had a trail of purplish-pink blood still drying on it, a testament to how recent the injury was. 

You looked away from him, down at the seat of your car, where he noticed that there was more blood on the seat. “Happy now?” you asked, but your voice was watery and high-pitched with none of the usual venom you seemed to reserve from him.

“What the fuck happened?” he managed.

“I don’t wanna--”

“No. If you don’t tell me, I will simply get Stretch to check the cameras around the city until we figure it out. Now. Tell me what happened. Who did this?”

You hunched in on yourself. Why wouldn’t you want to answer him? Why were you in your car? Why weren’t you at home, safe, and being cared for by your datemate? Why the hell wasn't your datemate out raining vengeance on whoever did this to you? For that matter, why weren't you raining vengeance on them? You were certainly powerful enough to do it yourself...

Realization hit him like a lightning bolt. “Oliver did this.” It wasn’t a question. It was the only thing that fit; your datemate did this to you and now you were hiding out in your car in New New Home. You weren’t at home because you lived with him and you obviously couldn’t stay there. Your outfit wasn’t appropriate for the weather because it was what you were wearing when you had to run from him. Even if it weren’t the only logical answer, your face when he said it told him everything that he needed to know.

Sans clenched his fists, his LV tearing through his chest and consuming his soul. He saw red and it took every ounce of hard-won self-control to not teleport home, get in his car, and drive over to your house and eviscerate your datemate. 

That really wouldn’t help you right now, though. He took a deep breath, then said, “You are not sleeping in your car.”

“Black, I--”

“No. You are not sleeping in your car. Any member of my family would take you in. Who do you wish to stay with? I’ll call them.”

You shrank even more, your good eye looking anywhere but him. “Everyone’s asleep.”

He could have reprimanded you, yelled at you that absolutely no one would care if you woke them up with your face looking like that, that his whole extended family adored you far more than they did him, but he didn’t. Instead, he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Very well. You will stay with us tonight.”

“No. Listen, I’m fine. You don’t have to--”

“We may not get along. We may not be friends. But that does not mean that I will not protect you. Like it or not, we are tied together and I would sacrifice my life to protect you, just as I would any other member of the family. Now, I cannot keep you safe if you stay here. Please, come back to the house with me. We can heal you and you will be protected.” He smiled wryly at you. “You know that I’m too much of a proud bastard to let anyone hurt you in my own home.”

Tears began slipping from your eyes, much to his dismay. “I’m fine here,” you said softly. “He can’t get into New New Home. That’s why I came here. I put up warding charms to protect against someone who would…” you trailed off and looked away.

“Someone who would do this to their datemate?” Black supplied gently.

You barked a laugh. “Yeah. Never thought I’d be using it to protect myself, but here we are.”

“It was clever to come here,” Black found himself admitting, though he wasn’t sure why. “You could’ve hidden anywhere, but coming here and using our protections and security to your advantage was smart.”

You stared at him for a second, then said, “You know that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented me?”

Black was taken aback at that. That couldn’t be right. He’d told you plenty of times that you did good work. He hated you, of course, but you were a damn powerful mage. You were good at your job. Had he really never told you that?

You looked away from him when he didn’t answer. “I don't need your pity. I don't want you to be nice to me just because..." You trailed off. "I’m not a delicate flower, Black. I… I had a bad day. But I’m not… I can take care of myself, just like I always have.”

“I do not doubt that,” Black said honestly, “but you are still not dressed for the weather, and you are still trying to sleep in your car. Just… Come back with me. Please?” When you hesitated, he added, “If I leave you here, I will never be able to sleep. And if you think I’m a bastard with a Napoleon complex now, you should see me when I haven’t slept.”

You looked up at him, blinked your right eye slowly, then finally nodded. “Just for tonight,” you said.

“Certainly,” Black said out loud, but he already knew that you would be staying with the skeletons for a while. You certainly were not going back to your datemate, not now, not ever. And if Black had to kill him to make sure that didn’t happen, well. What was a little more LV?

Black held out his hand to you and, cautiously, you took it. He pulled you into the void and you stepped out in his quiet living room. Mutt was upstairs, possibly sleeping, so the living room was partially dark. He showed you upstairs to the guest room, offered you a shower, gave you some of his clothes to sleep in. He sat you down on the couch and healed you as much as he could before finally pointing you to the bed.

“Hey, uh, Black,” you said, looking back down at him from the landing. He looked up at you and raised a brow. You were wearing one of his math pun shirts, one of the first things he’d bought on the surface actually, and a pair of sweatpants that were huge on you. When he looked at you in his clothes, his soul shifted uncomfortably in a way that he didn’t recognize. Perhaps it was a new facet of LV, who knew?

“Yes, Eleanor?” he said.

“Um. Thanks. I know that we… I know you don’t… don’t like me. But thanks for this.”

There was that flip in his soul again, and Black wanted to protest your assessment that he didn’t like you, but earlier hadn’t he been thinking that he loathed you? What changed? He didn’t have answers, didn’t know what to say, so he nodded curtly at you. That must have been enough because you turned on your heel. A few seconds later he heard the door to the guest room close.

He settled himself onto the couch and finished the text he started to the Fell brothers. Edge needed to know what was going on and the threat to New New Home needed to be assessed. Besides, if there was anyone who would be willing to help him murder your datemate, it was those two. He pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and curled up facing the door. He would sleep down here tonight. One of his people was in danger and he was going to make sure that you never, ever looked that small and scared again. Even if he would never, ever like you. Ever.


	24. Empty Gas Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans, Ellie, and Mutt take a much-needed break from work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of knife, stabbing with knife

“Okay, we’ve got peanut butter M&Ms, gummy worms, gummy bears, pepperoni pizza combos, and trail mix. Oh, and some energy drinks, water, and soda. Are we missing anything?” you asked, digging through the back of your Jeep. 

“Chocolate,” Mutt said.

“Oh, and a six-pack of Hershey bars,” you added with a grin.

“Ellie, are ya sure ya wanna be with my bro? ‘Cause you are the world’s most perfect woman.”

“Aw, thanks, Scoob!” you preened. “Babe, anything else you want?”

“Well, you didn’t say a single health food,” Sans pointed out from the driver’s seat. 

You laughed. “Health food isn’t for road trips! But I did forget to mention that I grabbed you all of the beef jerkies they had.”

“That’ll do in a pinch,” Sans said. “Ready to roll?”

“Yes please!” you said at the same time Mutt said, “If you’re sure ya can drive that far without killin’ us.”

“Scooby Felicia Doo!” you said, playfully smacking Mutt on the back of the head. “Don’t listen to him, babe! I know that you can drive us to the most interesting tourist locations in the United States!”

“Your confidence in me is always inspiring,” Sans deadpanned as he backed the Jeep out of the driveway.

You were pretty pumped about this. Your little family was spending the next week roaming around the country, driving to carefully selected landmarks that you all chose together. It wasn’t easy to get a list together; you were all into spooky things, of course, but you implemented a “no spooks” rule for this trip, so a lot of stuff that sounded fun was right out. The thing was, if you went to creepy locations, you were more likely to find stuff that made you switch to work mode. On your very first vacation as a team, you tried visiting the Mutter Museum. Unfortunately, the general weirdness of the place attracted a few alliumedes and the three of you ended up cutting your vacation short to put them down, then get back and fill out all the required paperwork about it.

So. No spooks.

You honestly shouldn’t of been as surprised as you were when Sans announced that you were going on vacation. He’d come to take you and Mutt’s mental health pretty damn seriously over the years and it’d taken a beating over the last few months, with the clown and the void and Dr. Hueline… Yeah, a vacation was definitely in order, if only to get you all away from the constant reminders of your trauma. Edge hadn’t said a word against it either, dropping off a gallon-sized bag of chocolate chip cookies and a reminder to check in daily so no one worried back home. It warmed your soul to think that even your uptight, Type A workaholics supported your need to get away for a while. 

The three of you settled into an easy pattern as Sans eased your Jeep onto the highway. Mutt was in charge of entertainment. He created playlist upon playlist, something for every mood that could come up on the trip. He had an “open road” playlist, “bored” playlist, “traffic”, “Raggy gets on Sans’s nerves”, “Sans calls Scooby an ungrateful shit”, “sleepy”... the list was seemingly  _ endless _ . You were in charge of rations and road trip games. There were finite games with a definite and pretty immediate winner, like the game where you looked for the letters of the alphabet or trivia games that you pulled up on your phone, but the most important games were the road-trip long competitions that would only have one winner, to be announced when you arrived back home. There was “Cows”, a game where you raced to point out cows each time you saw them, receiving a point each time you noticed first, and “License Plate Madness” in which you tried to see the most different license plates. It was a furious competition that sometimes resulted in entire stretches of the trip where someone was fuming because they lost a close call on a herd of cows or because they swore they saw the license plate for Louisiana first.

Sans’s job was to drive and provide puns and snarky commentary on the trip. He also loved “Metaphysical Eye-Spy”, in which you played eye-spy but were only allowed to describe concepts. For example, he stumped you and Mutt with “the feeling that you get when you feel like a cow might be coming around the corner but you can’t be sure” for like a half-an-hour. 

You didn’t mention that you knew he stole metaphysical eye-spy from a John Green book, one of his guilty pleasures that he curled up with under the covers when he thought you were asleep.

Leaving Ebbott was its own guilty pleasure for you. You’d spent most of your life hopping from place to place. In fact, Ebbott was the last place that you wanted to be after… Well, after. Now, you’d been living there for years on purpose without so much as taking off in the middle of the night for parts unknown. You loved your life, but you had to admit that your travel bone was starting to itch. The roads stretched out before you and it felt like a renewal, a restart, and for the first time in a long while, you didn’t mind that you weren’t taking to these roads on your own. Road trips are more fun when you’re with people you love, and that was something your long life hadn’t taught you before Sans and Mutt entered it.

Your little team had been on the road for several hours already when Sans announced that it was time for a pit stop. The Jeep was running low on gas and everyone could stand to stretch their legs. “Additionally, while I enjoy your company in the front seat, brother, I would like to spend some time sitting beside my beautiful datemate,” he’d added as he pulled off the interstate towards the first gas station he saw.

“You’re jus’ hopin’ that bein’ in the back distracts me from cows,” Mutt said good-naturedly. 

“You’re a cheater and we both know it,” Sans shot back.

“Lookin’ for fields on Google maps ain’t cheatin’! It’s using my resources creatively!”

“I’m about to use my fist creatively on your face,  _ Papyrus _ !”

“Personally, I’m planning on drugging his chocolate so that we stand a chance,” you told Sans. “And, just so we’re clear, anything except seeing the cows from the road is cheating.”

“You’re jus’ tryin’ to stifle my creativity,” Mutt said loftily.

Sans made a rude sound as he pulled into the gas station parking lot. The three of you staggered out of the car, everyone’s joints a little sore from the long time sitting down. You stretched and felt your back pop, then let Sans grab your hand as the two of you followed Mutt into the building. You waved at the woman behind the cash register, a blonde human woman, before making a beeline for the bathrooms. Traveling with monsters is great in that they don’t have to stop to use the bathroom, but they also sort of suck at remembering that mages require regular bathroom stops. 

The bathroom was actually pretty nice for a gas station. You absently noted that one of the stalls was occupied, then chose your own (relatively) clean stall. 

“Hello?” a soft voice called out.

You rolled your eyes. This person, violating the sacred covenant to not speak to strangers in the bathroom. You didn’t answer, both because they could possibly be on the phone or something and because you were not about to have a conversation with a random bathroom stranger. 

Your silence didn’t seem to be a deterrent to them. “Someone just entered, right?” they said.

Ugh. “Yeah,” you said, hoping that engaging with the voice wasn’t a bad idea.

“Wonderful. Do you know where you are?”

Uh… “The bathroom,” you said flatly.

Slightly chilly laughter. “Yes, yes, but beyond that. More than that.”

“The bathroom in a gas station.”

The voice laughed more. “I cannot wait for you to see.”

Yeah, time to get the fuck out. You finished up, washed up, and speed-walked out of the bathroom and over to Sans, who was looking over a display of slightly wilted fruit. He looked up at your approach, his soft smile shifting to confused alarm. “Is everything alright?” he asked calmly as if you couldn’t feel that his aura was flipping out.

“Yeah. Crazy lady in the bathroom,” you said.

“Do I need to…?”

You laughed a little. “Thanks, but I think I can handle a weird bathroom talker. I’ll be fine,” you said as you took his hand. It was comical how he visibly relaxed when you said that. He was hilariously uncomfortable with the whole concept of bathrooms, so asking him to go into a public restroom and fight whoever he found there was like the nightmare scenario for him. “I appreciate the offer, though,” you added with a kiss on the cheek.

He blushed a little ( _ precious _ ) and stammered out something about it being fine, not to mention it, which you were sure he meant very literally. You glanced around the store. “Where’s Scooby?” you asked.

He glanced back up from the fruit and blinked at the empty room. “I’m not… sure.”

You shrugged and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’s here somewhere. I’ll poke around, yeah? You get some health food you freaking weirdo.”

“I will, you degenerate.”

You laughed and began moving through the shelves, looking for your friend. He was stupid tall, well over six feet, so how were you not seeing him? It wasn’t like he was easy to miss. You stalked up and down each aisle, even the motor oil aisle, and, when you didn’t find him, your concern began to mount. You trotted back towards the fruit to get your boyfriend’s opinion of the whole situation. 

He wasn’t there.

You spun around again, now scanning for Sans, but you didn’t see him anywhere. What the…? Okay, that was enough of this nonsense. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and called Sans. It rang once, twice, thrice, before an unfamiliar voice said, “The number you are trying to reach no longer exists. Goodbye.” You pulled your phone from your ear and stared at it as it hung itself up.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

You tried Mutt next, with the same results. 

Now that you really looked around, it wasn’t just that Mutt and Sans weren’t in here; no one was in here. There were a few cars in the parking lot when you pulled in, but there was no one else around. You didn’t even see the blonde woman anymore, you realized, and your gut sank. 

Come  _ on _ . You just wanted a normal vacation, that’s all. You sighed and shut your eyes, extending your senses to feel for allimagic. Normally you didn’t need to go out of your way to sense it because it was bashing you over the head, but sometimes it was masked enough that it required some serious focus in order for you to feel it. 

You felt a faint pulse from behind a door at the back of the store. You approached it slowly, casually, like you weren’t looking at it. There was a small cooler beside the door, full of off-brand soft drinks that you weren’t really familiar with. You crossed your arms and looked over the bottles, all while checking out the door in your peripheral vision. It was a pretty normal-looking door if you didn’t know what to look for. It was clearly heavy metal but painted the same color as dry dirt. In the places where the paint was chipping, it was clear that the brown wasn’t the only layer of paint, that there was something crimson underneath.

You recognized a magic gateway when you saw one.

It reminded you a bit of the barrier, honestly, though far less powerful. The magic coming off of it was a lot lighter than the barrier, but still chock full of the same heavy foreboding. Magic often takes on the characteristics of its caster and this magic was dark, stale, and full of hate. You repressed a shiver and casually opened the cooler door, which put you closer to the door. You brushed against it with your hand and hissed as you felt the burn of an anti-mage ward. Again, it wasn't’ especially powerful or anything; you could probably pass through it with only moderate discomfort (as compared to your organs liquifying if the ward were far stronger). You selected a soda that appeared to be an off-brand version of Coke and eyed it, using the reflection of the bottle to scope out the store behind you.

It was a bloody good thing you did, because the cashier was behind you, her serrated teeth parted and her clawed hands reaching towards your neck. You threw the bottle over your shoulder as hard as you could and spun as you heard it hit your target. The woman staggered back, gripping her skull, then continued towards you. 

Well shit.

You opened the soda and poured it over your hands, then grabbed the door knob. The heat burned the liquid off of your hands very quickly, leaving the knob burning into the palm of your hand as you shouldered the door open. You pushed through the wave of nausea that washed over you as you dashed through the barrier, every atom of your body screaming that this was wrong, that you shouldn't be here. This room wasn’t for mages, your brain screamed, and you were going to die here.

You slammed the door shut behind you and scanned the room. You were in a large warehouse full of wooden shelves with various gas station supplies. At least, that’s what was at the front of the room. If you looked closely enough, you could also see that there were jars with body parts floating in them and bubbling beakers full of brightly colored liquids. You shoved one of the shelves in front of the door and took off as you heard the alliumede trying to tear through the door. You rounded a corner and saw a rickety wooden staircase leading up to a loft-type area. 

It was generous to call the stairs a stairway or the floor of the loft area a floor. Both were made of rough wood planks haphazardly nailed together in a way that implied a blind three-year-old had built it. The whole staircase shook as you dashed up it and the planks of the loft threatened to give out as you crouch-ran out onto them. You knelt behind a large, dusty toilet paper display, magic dancing at your fingertips. Beneath you, you heard the door give out and the creature snarled like a wounded animal. You stayed still and waited while the alliumede prowled around the shelves of the warehouse.

You watched as it rushed to the back corner of the store and shoved a large metal shelf to the side. Behind it was a crude door and the smell of death and decay hit you hard. That was the alliumagic you’d sensed earlier. The cashier disappeared inside with an angry howl. You pushed to your feet cautiously and crept down the stairs, jumping to the bottom from the third step in an attempt to avoid making too much noise.

As you approached the second doorway, you could feel an anti-mage ward emanating from it as well. This one was a bit stronger, but still ultimately wouldn’t hurt you much. You steeled yourself and slipped into the doorway. 

At first, your brain didn’t know how to interpret what you were seeing, so out of place that it made your brain do a full reboot to understand it. For all that the gas station was a hole-in-the-wall little place in the middle of nowhere, this room was surprisingly advanced. In the center of the room was a large computer with numbers dancing across its frame. The walls were lined with tubes full of a blue fluid, and in that fluid floated four individuals. Sans and Mutt floated there, both of their eye sockets closed like they’d fallen asleep. ( _ But not dead, if they were dead they’d be dust, they would be ok, they would.) _ They’d both been stripped bare and you took a second to wonder how quickly the cashier’d grabbed them to get them in this setup while she was in the bathroom.

The other two figures appeared to be human, though you couldn’t actually check them to find out for sure. In one tube, a man with dark hair and a scruffy beard floated and, in the tube beside him, floated a blonde human woman. You recognized her immediately as the cashier from the front.  _ Cool, cool, cool. _ You approached the tube with Sans in it and examined it cautiously. You could just break it open, sure, but you were nervous about doing that. For one, you didn’t know what the blue shit was and you didn’t want to make things worse somehow by freeing a genie or something stupid like that. For another, you didn’t know exactly what it was doing to them. Sometimes disconnecting from allimagic had to be done carefully to prevent damage.

“Isn’t it fascinating?” the bathroom voice said behind you. You whirled around and grimaced at the image of the blonde woman leaning against the wall. “I know you’re interested in what I’m doing, mage.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you’re super fascinating.”

The thing laughed. “My kind used to have to feed on travellers in the woods, sucking magic directly from their souls.” It pushed off of the wall and walked over to the tank with the man in it. She scraped a claw along the glass. “Now, travellers will come to us. And specimens last months! The magic is released into the ichor.” She turned to face you. “I’ve been waiting for a mage. Monsters are delicious, of course, but mages have more matter to them. You will last me and my family a year.”

“No thanks,” you said calmly, taking a bit of pleasure in the way the thing’s face fell and its brows furrowed in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘no thanks.’” You shifted so that your hand was on the hilt of your knife. “I’m actually not interested in you eating my magic, but thank you anyway.”

“You have no choice, filthy--”

“See, and now you’re getting insulting,” you said. “You really should learn to take the word no.”

Before the alliumede could react, you slammed the hilt of your knife into the glass behind you. It shattered and you felt the liquid wash over you ( _ gross _ ). You caught Sans under his arms and pulled him away from the glass now littering the floor. You broke the one next to him for good measure, even though it was empty.

The alliumede screamed and charged at you, razor-sharp teeth and claws both bared at you. You sidestepped easily, drawing her away from Sans. The thing shifted into a copy of the male and swung at you. You ducked easily, then jabbed with the knife. You caught the thing’s arm and it yowled with pain and staggered backward. You took advantage of the moment to swing over to Mutt’s tube and smash it, too. Even though he was tall, he was light and you caught him easily and laid him down on the floor. You did your best not to look at his bare-bones and instinct told you that you should cover him up with something, but you didn’t have on a jacket or anything…

Your musings distracted you the alliumede’s fist made contact with the side of your face. You took the punch well and held your ground, shoving it back and away from Mutt. Your face throbbed but it was barely noticeable over your growing exhaustion. The mage ward was draining your energy and magic, which was why you were desperately trying not to actually use your magic against this thing.

It grabbed your arms and wrangled you so that it was holding you to your chest. You tried to claw it off of you, still trying to conserve magic, when you felt a familiar buzz. Sans’s magic. The alliumede conjured an attack, its magic a muddy purple that you could easily imagine a combination of Mutt and Sans’s magic looking like. You tried not to puke on the thing when it pointed a spear made of that magic that you knew so well at your chest.

“Pull out your soul,” the alliumede growled in your ear.

“Sorry. I’m not into soul stuff,” you said.

“I can make you.”

You shrugged. “That’s fine. You won’t live long enough to do much with it.”

It cackled at you. “And just who is coming to save you in this backwater town?”

“Me.”

The alliumede had a second to register that a deep voice behind it had spoken, had enough time to try to shift to look over its shoulder, and got the honor of seeing Sans’s gloveless hand connect with its face. It staggered and growled and its grip on you weakened for a split second. That’s all you needed to flip your knife around and drive it up into its stomach.

Its scream was deafening. It staggered back from you, clawed hands scrabbling over its body as the mage blood in the knife tore through its veins. You moved over to Sans and Mutt, who had joined him while you were stabbing the thing, magic nipping at your fingers, a shield at the ready. It turned out to be an unnecessary effort, however. The alliumede let out another scream and burst into flame.

“That’s new,” Mutt said as the body quickly burned itself to ash. “You ever seen that ‘fore?”

“Yeah, a couple of times. It’s a ghoul,” you told him. “Feeds on flesh traditionally, but a lot of ‘em figured out that magic is a tastier treat. It fills their souls up and lets them use magic.”

“Excuse me, but does anyone know where our clothes are?” Sans asked, a purple dusting spreading across his face.

You shrugged. “Look around. I’m gonna get these humans out.” You walked over and busted the tubes that the humans were in, laying each of them gently on the floor. You observed that they were both breathing and didn’t seem to really have any physical injuries. Good enough.

While you were doing that, the boys discovered their clothes were gone. You took great joy in convincing them to get some clothes from the gas station clothing area to wear out to the car. You ended up doubled over, laughing so hard that you were crying when you saw their outfits. Sans ended up in a pink t-shirt that came down to his knees and declared him a “Southern Gal”. Mutt found a shirt that was a deep purple like his magic and claimed that “Rednecks Have More Fun.” You were proud to admit that you took several pictures before they noticed what you were doing and tried to confiscate the camera.

You sat on the pallets of dog food while Sans called Edge to see what he wanted you to do. You tried not to be too bummed because you  _ knew _ what he’d say: He’d tell you to come home. There was paperwork to do and vacation couldn’t compete with the pure stupidity of bureaucracy. You wrapped your arms around yourself and waited silently while Sans paced outside on the phone.

“You ok, Raggy?” Mutt asked you softly, slipping an arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah. Sorry, I jsut know that Edge is gonna make us go home and I was really excited about this. It’s stupid.”

“‘Snot stupid,” Mutt said. “Go tell ‘im you’re not goin’ home. Tell Sans ya need this.”

“It’s not that serious,” you said. 

Mutt raised an eyebrow at you, then said, “I think it is. Go tell ‘im.”

“I’m not--” 

You were cut off by Mutt literally dragging you to the door and pushing you outside. He slammed the door in your face and you heard the lock slip in place. Sans looked at you with a mixture of alarm and concern, but he kept talking on the phone. “Of course, of course. We will make sure it’s ready. Goodbye, Edge.”

He turned to you and held out his arms. You walked forward and let him pull you into his arms. “I’ll get to work wiping security cameras.” You began to pull away, but he held on tight.

“No need,” he said.

“Of course we need to. The last thing we need is for a bunch of idiot humans to twist this into a reason to slow down on monster rights.”

Sans laughed. “Of course, my dear, but what I meant was that there is no need for you to do it.”

“What…?” Sans gestured out and, over the desert horizon, you saw a convoy of some kind approaching. When they got out of the SUV you saw that they were all relatively young. Most were monsters, but there were some humans mixed in as well. 

You recognized the person that climbed out of the front seat immediately. Marcie smiled and waved at you, before gathering a few files from the vehicle and walking over. “Here we are. Thanks, you two, for stopping a various dangerous killer.”

Sans’s face said that that was enough of compliments for now, so you linked arms with him and asked, “Why are you here?”

She laughed. “Always blunt, Ellie. I’m here to take care of this gas station and the humans after their ordeal.”

You blinked at her, at first not catching her meaning. “Like to help us?” you asked warily.

“Like so that you can have a break,” she corrected. “Edge informed me that this is your vacation and I’m not busy. I can take care of this.”

“Are you sure? There’s a lot of cleanup and--”

She cut you off. “I’ve got this. Go get Mutt and get outta here.”

Just a short half-hour later, the three of you were pulling out onto the highway and you were struggling to keep your eyes open. “COWS!” Sans screamed triumphantly, yanking you from the near-sleep state. 

You laughed. “Aw, good job baby!”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Yeah, don’ patronize ‘im. He’ll think he’s cool or somethin’.”

“You ungrateful shit,” Sans said, easing the Jeep back onto the highway.

The Jeep pulled back out onto the open road, headed for adventure. You couldn’t wait.


	25. Don't Eat That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge doesn't approach anything in life the same way anyone else does. Well, except maybe Black.

Edge approached romance the same way that he did everything else in his life: the exact opposite of the way most others chose to do it. Personally, he was sure that if Stretch hadn’t weaseled his way into Edge’s affections he would still not be particularly interested in romance of any kind. The only other monster Edge had ever met that shared even a bit of his outlook was Black. Perhaps it was because they were both captains in Fellverses, but Edge found that he and Black agreed on nearly everything without ever having to discuss it. If Edge were to ever have to fight in this universe and Red could not be at his back, Black is the only other monster he would even consider trusting in that capacity. Truthfully, he had once mused that if soulmates existed, Black was likely his. He wasn’t interested in him romantically, of course not, only Stretch would ever hold that place in his life, but he could see them being platonic roommates for the rest of their lives without complaint from either of them. He’d never mentioned that to Black and doubted that he ever would, but he had mentioned it to Stretch one night as they lay tangled together in their bed. Stretch immediately burst out laughing and secured a promise that Edge would move Black in the instant Stretch died. Stretch seemed to find the whole conversation comical, while Edge had spent the rest of that night contemplating what a life without Stretch could even begin to look like. It wasn’t one he wanted, that was for sure.

The point is that Edge felt he could understand Black in such a way that few others were able to. Black was like him, seemingly uninterested in romance of any kind.

When Asgore hired on the consulting mage to help fortify the Embassy against paranormal attacks and to fight alliumede threats to monsterkind, Edge had assigned her directly to Black, his second-in-command. Black wasn’t taking well to a desk job and Edge thought that some excitement would help him adjust to the surface better. He had to admit that Black storming into his office the next day had been rather unexpected.

“I cannot work with that blasted woman!” Black bellowed at Edge, both hands in fists at his side. Edge remained in his seat, a forkful of kimchi raised to his mouth, and stared at the skeleton. His friend (yes, he felt that word accurately applied to Black) was positively fuming, his face a deep plum color and his eye lights wild.

“What seems to be the problem?” Edge asked calmly.

“The problem? _She’s_ the problem! She skirts my authority at every turn! She has absolutely no respect for the chain of command or for protocol! We get to a site and she just fucks off and does whatever she wants, regardless of my orders!” Black sank into one of the chairs like a pouting child. “You have to fire her. She’s impossible to train, impossible to work with! Get rid of her and get me another mage.”

Edge took a moment to consider his reply. Yes, “fucking off and doing whatever she wants” is a problem that needed addressed, but surely Black had led equally difficult troops? In his own world, he’d had the Doggi to contend with, each of whom were equally likely to accept pets from an enemy as they were to dust it. “I will speak with her about her behavior,” he said at last. 

Black crossed his arms, clearly not liking the subtext. “But you will not fire her.”

“But I _cannot_ fire her,” Edge corrected. “Asgore himself hired her and made it clear that I was to try to retain her. And you know how he is--”

Black interrupted him with the wave of a hand. “Yes, yes, I am all too aware of the soft leadership of this world’s monarch.” He slumped just a bit in the chair. “She is impossible.”

“But I believe that you can make it work,” Edge said. “You are, after all, the Malevolent Sans.”

Black straightened and his eye lights flared. “Who told you that?”

Edge smirked. “Who do you think? You know that my brother and your brother go out drinking. Red likes to pass juicy gossip onto me. Most of the time I don’t pay any attention to it, but… Well. I think you understand.”

“What do I have to do to get you to never tell anyone else that?”

“Work with the mage. Give her another chance.”

Black grumbled to himself, but finally met Edge’s eye lights again. “Fine, but when she gets me or Mutt killed, you will be the one responsible.”

Edge nodded, and watched as Black stormed out of his office. He waited a few seconds to make sure the skeleton wasn’t going to return to air any more grievances before picking up his phone and scrolling to a contact that he hadn’t yet used. The phone rang four times before a frazzled voice answered, “Yeah, what?”

“Is this Eleanor?”

“Why?” the voice said, and he heard something growl in the background.

“This is Edge, her emp--”

“Hey, Edge. This is Ellie. What’s up?” He heard the distinct sound of a crash and a yelp.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. “You seem to be busy.”

“Yeah, manticores are a bitch to put down. Did you need something or…?”

That took Edge aback, but he quickly recovered. “Yes, I would like you to join us for movie night this evening.”

“Sorry? What’s this now?” There was another yell and another crash. “Hold on a sec!”

Edge waited as sounds of fighting and yelling carried through the phone. He heard a grunt, then a high laugh, followed by, “That’s right, you bitch! Dissipate asshole!” Finally, the phone shuffled and your voice was closer. “Okay, I’m back. You want me to come to movie night?”

“Yes. It’s something of a family tradition and I’d like you to join us.”

“A family…? Oh. I dunno if that’s a good idea, bossman. Black’ll be there, right?”

“Yes, but this is not about him. Stretch has been rather taken with you of late and I think he would appreciate your company this evening.”

“Huh. Okay, but just so we’re clear: I don’t do threesomes. If this is a weird sex thing I’m not--”

“I can assure you that neither I nor my boyfriend would like to have sex with you,” Edge said quickly. “It’s at seven. I’ll text you the details.”

“Sounds great. Laterz!” The phone hung up with an audible click, and Edge leaned back in his chair to think about his next move. Black was like him and, like him, Black seemed to need a nudge in the right direction where romance was concerned.

***

Edge watched as you interacted with everyone, charming your way right into the hearts of the skeleton family. Well, most of the hearts of the skeleton family, anyway. Black was on the opposite side of the table flat-out glowering at you while you told a story about taking down a siren while you had the flu. Edge didn’t miss how Black’s eye lights kept flitting to the fresh cut on your forehead. He’d jumped you when you came in, loudly demanding to know where you’d gotten an injury. He’d only gotten angrier when you told him it was on another mission, which resulted in a yelling match between the two of you. You won it handily, sending him scurrying with a, “No, fuck _you_ , Mr. Midnight! I don’t work for you exclusively! If that’s what y’all wanted you should’ve paid me more!”.

Now, you were fiddling around with a breadstick, waiting for dinner to be served. Edge noticed that Black was the one who held the basket out to you when you asked, going as far as to roll his eyes at you when you took one. Testing a theory, Edge sat the lasagna down on the table. He ignored the requisite oohs and ahs and scooped you up a plate. He began to hold it out to you, only to have Black snatch it from his hands. Black looked annoyed and he clutched the plate. “You shouldn’t do all of the work,” he muttered, his face turning violet. “I’ll hand out the food.” He sat the plate in front of you roughly, but you grinned and thanked him anyway. Edge didn’t think many of the others would notice that Black’s blush deepened at that, but he noticed. He noticed, and he smiled.

***

Movie nights, dinners, and even snacks continued in the same way for the next few months. Whenever someone else (usually Edge) tried to hand you food, Black jumped in, snatched it, and handed it to you himself. It was pretty obvious, at least to Edge, but he kept his mouth shut and waited. Eventually, eventually, you would both own up to what was going on. And if you didn’t, at least Edge knew you were being fed. He noticed that over those first several months, you’d lost a lot of weight but also wore baggier and baggier clothing. He worried, and he didn’t miss how Black piled leftovers into your arms when it was time for you to go home either.

It all came to a head nearly a year after you left your former datemate. Edge shuddered to remember how you’d looked when Black brought you by the day after, your face bruised and swollen, your spirit broken. But the months went on and you did get better. You insisted on couch surfing from skeleton to skeleton until you could get back into your ancestral home. It took a little persuasion (and perhaps a late-night visit from some Fell skeletons) to convince Oliver to get the fuck out of your house, but eventually, he’d packed up and left, leaving you with your home.

The night before you went back home for good, Edge threw you a dinner party. He made your all-time favorite food from scratch, Papyrus provided appetizers, Blue brought desert, and Jupiter was in charge of several casseroles to help you settle into the new place. Edge emerged from the kitchen carrying an extremely full plate and sat it in front of you. You looked up at him with a huge smile and hunched over the food protectively. “Thank you, Edge, this looks ama--”

_ “Don’t eat that!” _

Everyone at the table towards Black, who was standing at parade rest looking supremely uncomfortable. “What?” you asked.

Black snapped his teeth shut and shook his head, but when you reached for the plate, he still teleported over, grabbed it, and teleported into the kitchen. “What the _fuck_? Sans, get back out here with my food!” You stood to follow him, but there was another pop right at your elbow. You spun around to see Sans setting a plate in front of you that was nearly identical to the other plate.

“Did you… Did you change out my food and then just bring me back the same food?” you asked.

“Hmm? No, don’t be ridiculous,” he said with a laugh.

“Okay…? So why then?”

He shrugged and you returned the shrug. You sniffed the food, but it smelled alright to you so you decided to eat it. You didn’t see how Sans’s shoulders relaxed when you began eating, how he took a breath so that he could calm himself, but Edge did. Edge smiled. Finally, maybe the two of you were figuring it out.

**Three Years Later**

“Hold on, hold on. Don’t take his food!” Sans snapped at you, pushing the plate backward out of your hands.

“Sans,” you whined, but he simply shook his head.

He dumped the plate of mac & cheese into the pot on the stove, gave Edge a cold look, then scooped you out a new spoonful of cheesy goodness onto your plate. You rolled your eyes, but accepted the new plate and let him steal a kiss. 

“Why do you do that?” you asked idly. Edge stiffened when he heard it. He assumed that at some point Black had told you about Fell culture, what it meant to accept food from another, but perhaps not? You weren’t even collared yet. Maybe he didn’t want to weird you out.

To his surprise, Black simply smiled at you indulgently while he dipped himself out a plate. “Do what?” he asked as if he didn’t know.

“You never let me eat something taken from someone else. At first, I thought you were doing a taste tester thing, but I don’t think you think your BFF would poison me.”

"Not unless there's something in it for me," Edge said.

There were fewer people at dinner that night than normal; much of the family was out of town on a diplomatic mission. It was just the two sets of Fell monsters, Stretch, and you all piled around the table. Perhaps that made it easier for Sans to discuss, or maybe he just loved you enough to not care how weird his explanation was. Edge ate some noodles and listened quietly, waiting to see what Black had to say about his homeworld.

“In Swapfell, accepting food is accepting a courtship,” Sans said slowly.

You blinked at him. “Really?” He nodded, then you added, “So I was dating Edge for a while there?”

“Careful,” Stretch said sickly sweet. “I’d hate to have to dust you over my baby’s honor.”

“He’s been doing that for years,” Edge said with a warm smile of his own, ignoring Stretch's hollow threat.

“Since we began dating?” you asked. Edge watched Black thread his fingers through yours while he settled in with his plate.

“Since your first movie night,” Stretch said.

You stared at them, mouth agape. Then, you rounded on Sans. “You were doing this that far back?”

Sans’s purple blush darkened. “I… Maybe. That depends on if you’re going to be mad about it or not,” he said diplomatically.

You laughed. “You fed me. I don’t think I can be mad about that.” Sans visibly relaxed and you took advantage of his stillness to tuck yourself against him. “Love you. I only want my favorite foods from you,” you added.

“Love you too,” Sans said freely.

Edge watched as you leaned over and whispered something to Sans that made him blush even more furiously. Edge couldn’t help but feel a deep satisfaction as he watched the two of you interact. No, he didn’t approach romance like anyone else he knew, but he’d been right about you two. And now, years later, you’d clearly found your own way. He reached over and grabbed Stretch’s hand, smiling at his love. He didn’t want a love like anyone else’s and he was pretty confident that, were he to ask Black, he would agree wholeheartedly.


	26. Mesmerizing Pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday mornings are, apparently, not typical at Sans's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little out of order again (busy weekend!) but here you go anyway!

“You know what I’ve noticed?” you said.

Sans didn’t look up from his newspaper. “Hmm?” he asked.

“Every Saturday, you wake up exactly 28 minutes earlier than you do on Sunday, even though they’re both your days off.” You took a bite of your pancake he’d made for you. “Why is that?”

He winced at your full mouth but still didn’t look up. “Hmm,” he said, this time a statement of disinterest. A carefully calculated statement of disinterest. _Interesting_.

“So I asked myself, ‘What happens on Saturdays that doesn’t happen on Sundays?’” you continued. “There’s the mail, there’s the Jewish sabbath…” you trailed off when that earned you a small snort. Then, you leaned forward both hands on the table, going for the throat. “Saturday morning cartoons.”

A veritable hit.

He didn’t say anything at all, tried to be the picture of disinterest that he had been at the beginning of this conversation, but he didn’t manage it. You couldn’t have explained how you knew it to anyone else, but you could feel the tension radiating off of him and you _knew_ you were right. You smirked and leaned back. “Isn’t that interesting?” you purred.

“I find it interesting that you pretend to be asleep for 28 minutes longer on Saturdays than you do on Sundays.” He finally lowered the paper to look at you and he was wearing his little glasses, praise be. “Why is that, my dear?” He shifted, his attention on you now. “I’ve also noticed that you always take the same route on your morning runs, except on Wednesdays, when you take a detour up a different street, the one that runs in front of the Bun bakery, and Wednesdays are their fresh pumpkin donut days. Or perhaps you think I haven’t noticed that you always avoid anything that Edge makes with green beans, though you have no trouble eating them when anyone else makes them? I’d hate for him to hear that you simply don’t like how he makes them. It would crush him. And the fact that you always change the subject when I ask--”

That was enough of that, so you shushed him in the most effective way you knew: a deep kiss. You allowed him to deepen it, shifting until you were practically sitting in his lap. After a few minutes, you leaned back, breathing heavy and feeling a bit distracted yourself.

He smirked at you, eye lights hazy and diffused with desire. “I’ve also noticed that you try to shut me up with kisses when you don’t want to talk about something.”

You shrugged. “You let it happen.”

“I do,” he confessed, then leaned in for another kiss.

Just because you had a pattern didn’t mean it wasn’t a wonderful one. But maybe it would be better to give him the Monsturamon plushie you’d bought him after you discovered his favorite cartoon another day. After all, it’d be a damn shame to interrupt this pattern of shushing with kisses before you got to find out if Sans had any surprises planned for you this morning.


	27. Something In the Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans's morning run doesn't quite chase away his nightmares like he hoped.

Sans actually preferred taking his runs around your house to taking them in New New Home. The monster population had done as well as they could with New New Home, of course, but there was nothing quite like the natural forest that surrounded your home. It was an old forest, you’d told him once, one that had been planted thousands of years ago by your ancestors to mark your family’s home. It was a devastating blow when, right after you lost your parents, the Mage Council had declared them traitors and reclaimed all of this land from you. You’d often told him that it was a common practice to salt and burn the land of traitors and you were quite certain that if your former datemate and childhood friend wasn’t the son of a member of the Council, your home would be nothing but a barren wasteland.

It wasn’t, though, and Sans had to admit that he loved the challenge of running up the gently sloping hills and jumping the small streams that rolled through the forest. Even on days like this one, when he rose far too early to be reasonable to run from his nightmares and still his LV, he loved the forest. His nightmares did not bother him into his day, never let them leave the bedroom, but sometimes his LV would roil in his soul until he found a way to calm it. Often, he and Edge met at the Embassy gym to spar themselves into exhaustion, but today the burn wasn't unbearable and he hoped that his run would be enough.

His thoughts were still focused on the distant memories that plagued his sleep and on your soft sleeping frame that he’d left behind when he ran out of the house. It wasn’t until far later than was acceptable that he noticed the rolling fog building in the forest around him. He paused at the crest of a hill and looked around, quickly realizing that he had lost himself in a fog so thick that he couldn’t see his hand if he held it out in front of his face.

Well, there was nothing for it. He couldn’t continue his run until the fog dissipated a bit, and he wasn’t quite sure of the way back, so he plopped himself down on a log to wait. If it got to be too late, he was sure that you would call for him and he would be able to follow your voice back to the house. There was no reason to be worried.

He heard a faint noise through the leaves, far past the end of his vision. He pushed himself up and looked around, extending his senses to feel for souls, intent, magic, _anything_. The fact that he didn’t feel anything at all was somehow worse. He glanced around for landmarks, anything he could use to identify his location, but he still couldn’t see past his fingertips. He couldn’t teleport if he didn’t know where the fuck he was, nor could Mutt or Red come and get him like this.

He heard what were definitely footsteps in the fallen leaves but still didn’t feel any presence nearby. He called up his magic and held it at the ready, listening carefully. A few more footsteps, then he heard a small voice in the fog. “Hello?”

It was the voice of… Well, to him it sounded like a very young human girl but he was terrible with guessing age and gender. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t a grown adult and it wasn’t giving off any kind of magic or soul signature.

 _Well fuck_.

“Is anybody there?” the little voice said again.

It was definitely an alliumede, probably masquerading as a child, and he didn’t have any kind of escape options other than running blindly through the forest. That did not appeal, either from a dignity or safety standpoint. Perhaps he should… Ah, well. You only live once. “Hello,” he called back.

He heard the steps hitch and stutter. “Someone’s there!” the voice cried. “Please! Please keep talking so I can find you! I’m lost.”

“O-okay. Well, can you tell me your name?”

“Marieferre.”

“Marieferre? That’s a nice name. How did you get to the woods?” Sans asked. “I didn’t know anyone lived near here.”

“Well, except that mage who lives on the hill,” the voice corrected as the footsteps moved closer.

Sans felt his soul turn to ice at that comment. Whatever this was knew about you, knew where you lived, knew you were a mage. He increased the intent in his magic, shifting so that he was in a more defensible stance. “Do you know the mage?” Sans asked calmly, only to feel a shiver up his spine at the childish giggle he got in response.

“I know everyone,” the voice said, still giggling. “But, no, I haven’t met your mage personally.”

“What are you doing in this forest?” Sans repeated.

“Working.”

Suddenly, the fog parted a bit to reveal a small human-looking girl. She wore a short pink sundress and had curly pigtails. Her round face was streaked with tears, but her eyes sparkled as she smiled at Sans. She ran to him and would have thrown her arms around him if he hadn’t sidestepped her touch. She giggled when he did it. “You’re pretty smart, Mr. Sans Black Sir,” she said.

Sans’s spine stiffened and he briefly considered just shooting a blast of magic through this thing’s head and moving the hell on with his day, but it hadn’t attacked him yet. It hadn’t done anything to make him kill it, not yet. It skipped over to the log that Sans sat on earlier and sank gracefully onto It wood. She crossed its legs and looked up at Sans. “I guess you know that I’m not a human child,” she said.

“It is pretty obvious,” he admitted.

It shrugged. “That’s fine. I know who you are too, and I would hate to leave you at a disadvantage. I know you hunt alliumedes, you and your team, your brother, and your girlfriend.” It leaned forward and grinned childishly. “I even know what Red’s been working on down in the cellar.”

Sans’s eye lights flashed. “What are you?” he growled.

It shrugged again, and Sans had the wild thought that it reminded him of Comic when it did that. Comic and Red both tended to mostly communicate in puns and shrugs, the lazy bastards. There was nothing lazy about the way the thing before him grinned at him, though. “Most of your people call me a grim reaper, but I prefer the term soul harvester. I was supposed to be collecting some souls in this area when…” She gestured vaguely to the fog around her.

“Were you here for… For one of my team?” Sans asked. He would kill it right here and now if it was.

It giggled again. “No, no. Your people are safe. For now, anyway.” She stood up, hands behind her back. “I’ll tell you what, Mr. Sans Black Sir. If you help me, I’ll help you.”

“How can you possibly help me?”

“I know that you’re about to lose one of the most important people in your life. I can tell you how. Help you prevent it, maybe.”

Sans wasn’t stupid. He knew better than to make deals with alliumedes, any alliumede. But this one had information. If it truly knew what Red was working on, that Red was trying to figure out who was paying traitors to gather information about Eleanor, then perhaps it knew the answers that had eluded them so far.

It sighed. “I know you don’t trust me,” it said.

“Observant,” Sans muttered.

“Yes. Well, let me assure you that I mean you no harm. I am not the kind that makes a deal and then twists it. I just want a trip to the void to get out of this blasted fog and I will help you with your investigation. It’s a fair trade.” It held out its hand for Sans to shake and shook its head when he didn’t. “I can even point you to Eleanor’s house. Open a door straight to her living room from the void.”

Sans narrowed his eye lights. “I don’t want anything from you,” he said eventually. “But I will help you get back to the void.”

“You don’t want anything from me?” Suspicion was written all over its face. “If you don’t want the deal, why would you help me?”

“Because I am not in the habit of leaving others out to dry. But, Marieferre, let me assure you: if you come for me or mine, I will kill you.”

It giggled again at that. “Sure.”

With that, Sans stepped forward and caught the ~~grim reaper’s~~ soul harvester's arm, yanking it into the void. It pushed off from him once there and spun around. “Oh thank goodness!” it exclaimed. “I can breathe! Finally!” It turned to Sans. “Look, I know you don’t want the deal. That’s fine. But I’m gonna warn you: Darkness is coming for your girl. I like Eleanor and don’t want anything to happen to her, but she’s in danger.”

“From what?” Sans asked.

“The past.”

“What…?” Sans scrubbed his face with his gloved hands. _This_ is why you don’t accept advice from alliumedes.

“That’s all I can say. But… If you call for me in the void, I’ll hear you and I’ll come if I can. I… I’ll help if I can. Just once, though! I’m not your maid.” It looked at him with a petulant stare.

“Thank you,” Sans said sincerely. He’d take any help he could get if it meant keeping Eleanor safe.

“Yep. I don’t like debts,” it said. “Here.” It waved its hand in the emptiness and a simple wooden doorway appeared before them. “This will take you to Eleanor’s house just a few minutes after we left,” it explained. “The void didn’t steal your time this time.” It winked at him. "One of the benefits of traveling with a soul harvester."

Sans opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything, so he just nodded curtly and stepped through the doorway. It opened up into your living room, and a quick glance at his watch told him that Marieferre told the truth; it was only minutes after he left. He kicked off his shoes and ran up the stairs two at a time without even bothering to straighten them on the doormat. He needed to see you, to touch you, to be sure you were okay, and he needed it _now_.

He burst into the bedroom and you groaned softly and sat up sleepily. Your hair was everywhere and you fell asleep with eyeliner and mascara still on, so they were smudged around your eyes. You blinked at him like a sleepy raccoon. “Babe? You okay?”

Sans felt his soul unclench at the sight of you. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’m fine.” He skimmed out of his sweaty running clothes and crawled into the bed behind you, but not before shooting Edge a text that both said he would be in late and that he needed to meet with him as soon as possible today. Then, he turned the phone off and pulled you into his arms. You snuggled against him and made some sleepy noises. “You wan’ somethin’?” you asked, your voice just shy of being seductive.

“You’re tired,” he pointed out.

“Tired,” you agreed.

Sans planted a kiss on the top of your head. “I just want to hold you. Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You made another sleepy noise but pushed against him more, silently urging him to hold you tighter. He was happy to oblige, letting your scent and warmth chase away the fear in his soul, just like the sun would soon chase away the fog outside.


	28. In the Cornfield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corn is an abomination. Sans learns why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't LOVE how this one turned out, but eh, they can't all be winners.

_ Sans can’t see anything with how thick the trees were here. That’s fine; it’s not like a lowly sentry had much to worry about this far out. A sound in the trees. A blast of magic, Mutt screaming. Sans screaming. _

_ Screaming. _

_ Screaming. _

Sans couldn’t  _ breathe _ . He couldn’t see  _ anything _ with the corn towering over him. Somewhere along the way, he’d dropped your hand and now you were just…  _ gone _ . The corn seemed to have swallowed you alive. He couldn’t find Swap or Edge either; he was completely alone, the corn absorbing any sound from around him. He felt like he was being buried alive, despite the fact that he could still see the sky. “Eleanor!” he yelled, trying desperately to keep the panic out of his voice.

_ No response _ .

He tore through the field, senses on high alert, feeling for any familiar magic around him, but there was nothing. He couldn’t feel anything at all. He was being ridiculous, weak, scared for no reason. Everything was fine. Everything was fine. Everything was--

_ A sound. _

Without thinking, Sans swung around and fired a series of bone bullets packed with intent towards the noise.

Luckily, Edge was skilled at blocking attacks and Stretch was talented at dodging. 

“Shit!” Stretch yelped. “Black, what the hell? Are you ok?”

Edge was saying something, but Black couldn’t hear him. Edge was standing over him, crimson eye lights flickering in concern. When did Edge get so tall?

_ Where was Eleanor? _

Who the hell thought of corn anyway? Fucking abomination, maybe they should investigate it as a goddamn alliumede!

“Sans?”

Sans tried to focus on the sound of his name but he couldn’t see. He was being crushed, magic was ripping through him, through Mutt--

“Sans!”

Someone was shaking him. He shoved them off of him and pushed himself back, flinching when he felt corn at his back.

Hands were on him again.

“Sans, baby, look at me.” Sans managed to focus his eye lights on whoever had ahold of him. He blinked a few times and realized that he was sitting in the mud of the cornfield. You were kneeling in front of him, hands on his shoulders, and looking into his eye lights with eyes full of concern. He quickly took in your disheveled appearance and realized that you’d fallen into the mud. 

_ He pushed you down. _

“Eleanor! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to--”

“Hey! Hey, it’s fine. Calm down. I’m totally fine. You’re fine.” You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him. The feeling grounded him.

“Let’s get outta here,” Stretch said behind you somewhere. 

“I heard that they sell cider and donuts at the front,” Edge added.

“That sounds delicious,” you said, then looked back to Sans. He blushed under your stare. “Want some cider and a donut, babe?”

_ Stars _ , he was embarrassed. It was a  _ corn maze _ . It was never  _ dangerous _ . There was no reason for him to have reacted like that… But even as his embarrassment fell on him, he was also shamefully relieved that you wanted to get out of the maze. You were excited about this double date, visiting a corn maze with your two best friends, and he ruined it with his stupid issues.

Before he could say anything else, you were hauling him to his feet and pulling him over to Stretch. He’s not sure what’s happening, but he just let you pull him along. It’s fine; he can trust you. He trusts you. He trusts--

The void closed around him unexpectedly.

And he’s standing at the entrance to the maze. He staggered a bit, but you held tight so he didn’t fall. Immediately, he feels both better and worse. Being able to see his surroundings made his soul unclench, panic immediately leeching out of his body, but he forced you to teleport out of the maze instead of solving it. You were so excited and he let you down.

Edge and Stretch led the way towards the alleged donuts and cider. The two of you fell into step behind them and you tightened your grip on his arm. He tried to think of a way to apologize that wasn’t also pathetic, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He felt his blush deepening by the second.

“Hey,” you said softly. He couldn’t look at you, so he just inclined his head a bit so you knew he was listening. “I can practically feel you flipping the hell out about the maze. Just… I have a question.” You took a breath. “Would you be mad if I had some sort of panic thing on a date and we needed to go do something else?”

“No, of course not,” Sans said immediately.

“Kay. Well, neither would I. Now we know that you  _ hate _ corn mazes. That’s fine. We don’t go to corn mazes anymore. But I’m not, like, mad or anything. I’m not that much of a bitch, okay?” Sans managed to nod. “I care about you so much more than I do a date. Besides, donuts and cider are good too.”

Sans waits for you to ask, to wonder what set him off. There are reasons, he knows. He remembers the attack in Snowdin forest, the feeling of not being able to see his attackers, not knowing where Mutt was…

But you never asked.

Instead, you launched into an explanation of all the reasons that you hate corn. “It’s terrible for the soil,” you explained. “They can’t plant it too many seasons in a row or you, like, permanently destroy the soil. And there’s the cows!”

Sans played along. “Cows?” 

You laughed and continued, “Yeah. They keep feeding corn to cows, but cows aren’t supposed to eat corn like that. Then they have to grow more corn to feed the cows and they have to feed the cows corn because they grew so much corn.”

“Poor strategy,” Sans said, and he can feel the tension leaking out from around you. 

“I know! It’s insane, and--”

Sans let the sound of your voice wash over him, pulling him back from the brink of his panic. Maybe you didn’t get to do the corn maze, but the truth is, he was always happy to be anywhere with you.


	29. Cryptid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all alliumedes are enemies, but not everyone seems to know that.

You and Stretch had a little tradition, one that blossomed well before either of you were dating Captains of the Royal Fucking Guard, back in the bad ol’ days when you were pretty sure Black hated you and the feeling was pretty damn mutual. In Stretch, you’d found a permanent bestie, one that you were thrilled to join on double dates. You were silently grateful that neither Sans nor Edge minded the two of you spending time together solo while they were at the Embassy. It was something that Oliver wouldn’t of ever allowed, nevermind the fact that you and Stretch both found the idea of hooking up hysterical. 

Your tradition centered around the world’s dumbest show: Mysteries of the Darkness. You’d discovered your mutual love of it one day when the universe conspired for you to both wear t-shirts for it to one of the family game nights. It’s your basic ghost hunting show, complete with EMF detectors, ouija boards, and spirit boxes. It didn’t change a lick when monsters came Aboveground and ghost monsters emerged; in fact, they seemed to lean even harder into simply hunting human ghosts and trying to validate hauntings. There was a whole lot of holding the camera really close to their faces and panting.

It was fucking awesome.

The show aired on Mondays throughout fall, and you and Stretch made it a priority to sit and watch it together, wearing your dumb shirts. Since you’d started dating (and, in Stretch’s case, married) your captains, the only change was that the snacks got  _ way _ better. Case in point, Stretch arrived at your house for this week’s episode holding a Tupperware of brownies cut into ghost shapes with little M&Ms pressed into them as eyes. Sans left you a pitcher of cider and directions about how to warm it up before kissing your forehead and shortcutting to meet Edge to… Work on making model airplanes together, maybe? You actually weren’t sure what their plans were this time; sometimes they cooked or sparred, other times they explored hobbies like rebuilding action figures or making models. Your favorite time was when you drove Stretch home and found them engaged in a jigsaw puzzle competition. They bought the same “Impossipuzzle” and were racing to finish it. It turned into a pretty intense session, with you and Stretch each cheering your respective significant other on.

Tonight was a special episode for a few reasons. First, they were filming near Ebbott, somewhere in the foothills of the mountain. Secondly, it was live. You and Stretch were jazzed to see what the hell they thought they were going to do with a live episode, but you could not wait to watch the trainwreck as it happened in front of you.

“The edgelord caught me eatin’ a Cosmic Brownie,” Stretch said mournfully. “Got ‘im all hot an’ bothered an’ so he made his own version.” 

You bit the head off of the ghost and shrugged. “They’re really good.”

“I know,” Stretch said with a sigh, “but they just don’t have that je ne sais quois, ya know?”

“No. The, uh, taste of plastic?”

“Exactly.”

You shrugged and grabbed a second brownie to take over to the sectional with you. You curled up in a corner under a fluffy blanket and the both of you sprawled out so that your feet tangled together in the center of the couch. Zuko and Nugget both appeared from somewhere and clambered on top of you. Your lap wasn’t quite big enough for both of them, so Nugget gave a little mew and slinked over to Stretch for some pets. You flipped on the TV, eagerly anticipating the beginning of the episode. 

“You think they finally got permission to go Underground?” you asked idly.

Stretch made a weird noise. “Embassy still controls that land. They’d have to get Edge’s permission and he ain’t about to agree to that. He might make us brownies ‘cause he loves us, but these aren’t ‘I support your show’ brownies. He fuckin’ hates these guys.”

The screen changed to three human men and a woman standing in the forest together, huddled and peering into what you assumed was a drone camera screen. The woman was already breathing hard. You rolled your eyes. Hard. She claimed to be a mage, but you knew fake magic when you saw it. “We’re here, live at the scene,” the leader of the little group, Neil, said. “We’re stalking Ebbott’s newest cryptid! It’s not a monster, not a human, not a mage!”

The camera panned a bit and now the woman, Ezerellda (there was no way that was her real name), was taking up most of the frame. “It isn’t producing any magic, except for the magic that all living things possess, of course. It’s something else entirely.”

“Ooooh a cryptid,” Stretch said, plucking the eyes off of his ghost brownie.

“She can’t sense any magic except the magic that  _ all living things have _ , Stretch. You know. Like how magic works,” you sneered.

“Aw, give her a break.”

“You’d never respect me if I did.”

You turned your attention back to the television, where the team’s nerd/researcher, Gavin, was explaining about the cryptid. “--locals call it Fantastibat--” 

“They really don’t,” you yelled at the TV.

“--and it’s said to be a giant bat, a bat the size of a school bus!”

You and Stretch turned and looked at each other, immediately uncomfortable. “They can’t mean…”

“They’re after Bartok?” you asked.

“No way. There’s no way they found a real alliumede. They’re morons,” Stretch said, gesturing at the TV.

The camera began moving through the forest at a run, following the team as they chased after the beast. The camera tipped up and bit and you both gasped at the sight of a huge white bat flying low over the trees. “Well, shit,” you muttered, fishing out your phone. 

You hit the first number on the speed dial and waited as it rang twice. Finally, Sans answered, “If you two ran out of snacks already that is hardly our concern.”

“First of all, if we ran out of snacks, you know that you would both be over here to feed us immediately and without hesitation. Secondly, did you give the Mysteries of the Darkness crew permission to film in any specific location or anything?”

“Hmm? Yes, they have to stay outside of the monster community.”

“Sans, they’re chasing Bartok.”

Sans hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. I don’t suppose you and Stretch can handle it? It’s just that Edge and I have only started painting and if we stop now it will ruin the whole pot.”

You blinked at the phone like it was going to change its answer. “Sorry, you want to skip saving a new bestie of ours because you’re painting a pot?”

“Pot?” Stretch asked, perking up. “Tell Edge that if he’s smokin’ drugs without me I’mma be pissed.”

“It’s a delicate process, my dear. If you really think you can’t handle it--”

“I didn’t say that! I just figured you would want to handle it!” you muttered, batting Stretch away as he tried to grab the phone.

“Normally I would love a chance to bash someone over the head with bureaucracy, but--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s fine. Whatever. We’ll handle it.”

“I love you?” Sans tried and you humphed back at him.

“I love you too. That better be a fucking amazing pot.” You hung up the phone and turned to Stretch. “Our boys are painting pots so I guess we’re on our own.”

Stretch stared at you. “They’re… painting? Pots? And they’re letting us wander into the forest alone instead of coming to captain some shit?”

“I guess the pots are their new loves now.”

Stretch sighed. “I knew it couldn’t last forever, but damn, I didn’t think that he’d leave me for ceramics.” He looked morose before throwing you a sly grin. “Good news is I figured out where they are an’ I can get us there.”

“Love that,” you said, and grabbed a hold of his arm. The trip through the void was quick, quicker than Sans’s seemed to be, and it left you standing in the forest looking around in the dark. You clicked on your head lamp and looked around before Stretch suddenly let go of you and side stepped out of the way of a very large person slamming into you. You fell to the ground and gasped, your air knocked out of your lungs by the force of the impact.

“Sorry!” a voice said. You looked up and saw Donnie, the cameraman for [TV SHOW] leaning over you. “I didn’ mean ta run inta you. Ya came outta nowhere!”

“Stretch, you bitch!” you groused, before pushing yourself to your feet and dusting off your leggings. “Where’s--”

“Goddamn, Donnie, you’re missing all the best shots!” a second voice yelled from somewhere ahead of you. Loud footsteps came towards you and Neil burst out of the treeline, gesturing angrily as he went. When he caught sight of you, he did a double take. “And who the hell are you?” he yelled. “We’re filming here! Didn’t you see the signs?”

“We did,” you said, stepping forward. “I’m Eleanor and I’m a representative of monsterkind. We are here--”

“Monsterkind? I ain’t nowhere near your land!” he howled. “We’re outside of your borders. That asshole made it real clear where we could and could not go.” He looked past you to Stretch as he talked.

You smirked and silently wondered which of your captains was the particular asshole this guy was referring to. Probably Sans. “It’s not about the land. You’ve run into an unforeseen complication. It’s--”

“Is something wrong?” a cold voice cut through the trees. Ezerellda walked forward and wrapped her arm around Neil’s.

“Fucking monsters are pissed off ‘bout something,” Neil muttered to her. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s boss stuff.” You saw a dangerous flicker in her eyes, but you didn’t say anything. Sweet, so this guy was a sexist prick. Fantastic. “Speakin’ of which,” he said, stepping forward a bit, “I wanna talk to the boss, not the secretary.”

You were gonna kill him.

“I can assure you that I have the authority--”

“Are you her boss?” Neil asked over you, eyes boring into Stretch. You threw Stretch a look that told of horror and pain if he dared to say he was your boss. He returned your stare with a smirk.

“Nope,” he said, popping the “p”. “She’s my boss, actually.”

Neil looked back and forth between the two of you. “Great. So neither of you have any actual authority. Thanks for wastin’ my time.” He shook his head and turned to make his way back into the forest. As you were deciding whether to throw up an invisible shield so he broke his nose or just punch him in the dick, you heard a yelp, followed by a yell of, “Got it!”

“That’s Gavin! Come on, Neil,” Ezerellda said, pulling him along behind her. 

You and Stretch exchanged a worried look between you and followed them. The forest was pretty thick, so it was hard to keep up, but you managed with only minor tripping. You didn’t really think through having to walk through the forest when you made your shoe choices. Ezerellda was surprisingly agile for a total airhead, weaving through the trees like a deer. Eventually, your little group reached a small clearing area. There, Gavin was kneeling beside a computer, typing away furiously. In front of him, Bartok was on the ground, bound with some sort of electricity shaped like a net. He wasn’t moving but his eyes followed you as you approached.

“What the hell?” you yelled, rushing forward towards the bat. You knelt down next to him. “Bartok? You okay?”

“You know this… This thing?” Ezerellda asked, disgust and awe in her voice.

“Fuck you,” you said coldly. “And get this thing off of him!”

“Sorry, no can do,” Neil said. “We’re sellin’ it to a zoo.”

“What? No, you’re not. He’s protected by monster law.”

Ezerellda snorted. “An alliumede is suddenly protected by your laws? That’s rich.” She seemed to realize her mistake almost immediately. Her eyes widened and this time you were sure you saw a flare shoot through her eyes. 

“Wait. You know about alliumedes?” you asked. “You’re an actual mage?!”

Ezerellda laughed. “It’s not actually any of your business what I am. What I am is rich now, when we sell this thing to the highest bidder.”

“That ain’t happenin’,” Stretch said low. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his fingers sparking with orange magic. 

“Ezzie, dear, just let me handle this,” Neil said. “You see, we aren’t just ghost hunter’s; we are--”

“Poachers,” you finished coldly. It was all snapping into place now. You’d heard of some non-threatening alliumedes disappearing over the years. Everyone assumed that they just went underground or died, but maybe… “They’re intelligent and non-violent,” you said. “They don’t need put down. They’re not a danger.”

“Not a danger and not worth any money ain’t the same thing, sugar cheeks,” Neil said.

“Well, Bartok is under our protection. He’s not going anywhere,” you said, shifting your stance into a defensive one.

“I absolutely cannot wait to see you try to stop me," Ezerellda said, stepping forward.

“Us,” Neil corrected, also stepping forward. From his belt, he pulled something vaguely gun shaped and you threw up a shield as he fired it at you. It turned out to be a smaller version of the net that they used on Bartok that fell over the bubble of shield you made. You could feel the electric pulses even through your shield.

“Stretch,” you said through gritted teeth, “bud, you gotta teleport us out.”

“We can’t leave Bartok!” he cried.

“No, I know, but--”

“I can’t port him by myself! We got stuck last time and that was with all of us trying!”

“I know! I’m not asking you to. But this net is hard to shield against. You need to get us  _ out _ .”

He shuffled his feet. “I’m running low on magic,” he admitted.

“What? Why didn't you say something?!”

“Oh, like we knew these guys were dangerous?! Why would I speak up? I had plenty to do two shortcuts!”

Your head began to ache as you felt the drain on your magic. You had no idea how powerful the net was, but you figured if it touched Stretch… Well. He only had five HP; if there was any intent at all in that thing it could kill him.

_ Fantastic _ .

“Okay, okay. Can you port yourself?”

“I’m not leaving you here!”

“Stretch! Yes or no. Could you port yourself somewhere safer and call Edge?”

He blinked, then slowly nodded. “I think so. But I won’t be able to come back for you.”

“That’s fine.”

“You’ll get hurt!”

“I get hurt a lot, bud.” Stretch shifted awkwardly, trying to think of any reason to say no. You sighed. “Dude, it might hurt me, but it might  _ kill _ you. I’d rather get shocked a little then have to hand off your dust to Edge. Please?”

Stretch shuddered, then nodded. “We’ll come for you.”

“I know.”

He stepped back into the void and you dropped the shield. You didn’t want to run completely out of magic, not ever. Things could always get worse.

The net fell on top of you and immediately wrapped around you, the electricity somehow keying in on exactly where your body was. You felt volt after volt pass through your body, pain threatening to rip apart your soul. It just wouldn’t fucking stop and struggling only made it worse. You tried to shift, to free an arm, to concentrate enough to do anything, but every time you nearly got there, the net seemed to fire off again.

Sans once told you that, since your natural soul color was a shade of red, you should be naturally good at red magic. You should be fantastic at forming attacks, ripping apart souls. You refused to learn the ability, even as a young mage, because you didn’t like the way it felt when it flowed through you, like your whole body was on fire with anger and the need to destroy. 

That didn’t mean you  _ couldn’t _ do it.

You channeled the red magic into your fingertips, breathing heavily as the net drained your HP one quarter of a point at a time. You focused on freeing yourself, on freeing Bartok, and took a deep breath, forcing the tiny red knife to form. It wasn’t much but hopefully it would be enough. Just as you shifted to slice the net, you felt a kick to your side. You grunted and the magic dispelled. You glanced up and saw Ezerellda kneeling over you. “Sorry,” she said, “but no. Mages sell pretty well too, if you know where to sell them.”

You groaned and started to smart off to her, but your response was completely swallowed in an ear-splitting roar. Ezerellda looked up, aghast, and moved away from you. Neil knelt in front of you and tried to grab you up, but something knocked him backwards. He hit a tree and fell to the ground, lying too still. A wind powerful enough to physically scoot you a few inches blew behind you. You saw Ezerellda dashing off into the forest with Donnie and Gavin behind her. Silently, you wondered just how involved in this whole plan those two had been.

As quickly as it started, the wind stopped. You felt more of your HP tick down and you moaned. It hurt like hell, but you didn’t really seem to be in danger anymore. What the hell happened anyway? Behind you, you heard movement. “Be still, small mage,” Bartok said.

You obeyed, laying as still as possible as the giant leaned over you. He opened his mouth to reveal a fang that was easily as long as your torso. You blinked up at him as he leaned over and used it to rip apart one of the streams of electricity in your net. When he did, the whole thing fell apart, leaving behind only angry red welts where the lines touched you. Shakily, you sat up and looked up at your savior. He didn’t look  _ great _ . He had similar welts to the ones that you wore and his wings were a little frayed. His eye lights were bright, though. “Are you alright, small mage?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “What about you? I’m really sorry; we had no idea they were hunting you or we would have--”

The bat’s deep laugh stilled her. “I am fine. Their human technology could not have held me had I not allowed it. However, when you were injured I realized I must act.”

“Thanks,” you said softly.

The bat looked away before saying, “You saved me from my prison. I owe you a debt that can never be repaid.”

There was a soft pop and you looked over your shoulder to see Sans leading Edge and Stretch out of the void. Edge immediately staggered back and swallowed back vomit, looking around for your attackers. When he didn’t find any, he stalked over to you. “What happened?” he asked. His eye lights were kind and worried, but also hard and curious.

“Bartok saved my life,” you said, and though it may not be entirely accurate, it felt true.

Sans, having held back as long as he seemed able to, rushed forward and pulled you into his arms. He checked you over, grumbling at each welt that he saw. You felt green magic begin to wash over you. “Wait! Check Bartok first,” you said. “I’m okay.”

The bat laughed again. “I am uninjured, small mage. I find your concern for me touching.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want you to dust out here,” you said, your ears turning pink in embarrassment.

“Hey!” Stretch said, stepping forward. “Bartok, I brought ya something.” He shuffled up to the huge bat and held out a rather large ear piece, similar to the one that Sans and Mutt just left in their ears all the time. “This’s an earpiece. If you tell it to call us, it will. Got it all hooked up with everyone's names and phone numbers.” He looked up shyly. “That way ya can call us if someone tries stalkin’ ya again.”

The bat looked down at the skeleton for a moment, then dipped his head so that Stretch could put it in his ear. He tested it by trying to call Sans, which worked smashingly. “It has been a very long time since I had friends,” the bat said softly.

“You have them now,” Sans said firmly. “I owe you a debt that I can never repay.” You nearly rolled your eyes; what was it with these guys and, like, life debts or whatever? So dramatic. 

You must not have been paying attention because before you even realized what was happening, Sans scooped you into a bridal carry. He nuzzled your neck and you sighed and let him. It felt nice and he was probably feeling a little fragile right now. After all,  _ Neil from Mysteries of the Darkness _ just tried to kidnap you.

Speaking of which, “Is he okay?” you called to Edge, who was kneeling beside Neil.

“He’s fine. Unfortunately,” Edge said coldly.

“Red is on his way to handle security and he’ll get him to the hospital,” Sans told you. “Because a monster was involved, we should get dibs on prosecuting him.”

A monster…? You looked over at Bartok and an overwhelming sense of gratefulness filled your soul. They were telling humans he was a monster, putting him under the jurisdiction of the Embassy. Humans didn’t understand alliumedes and the Mage Council weren’t inclined to help deal with them, not unless they actively created problems for mages. That left the (arguably few) peaceful ones you’d encountered with very few legal protections. It wasn’t fair or right and it seemed like maybe your boyfriend was helping correct that by classifying them as monsters. Not technically accurate but--

“Is my presence required further?” Bartok asked, interrupting your racing thoughts.

“I do not think so,” Edge said. “We can reach you on the earpiece if we need you.”

“Very well.”

The alliumede took flight. Now that you’d seen how powerful his wings could be, you knew he was being very gentle around your group, making sure that he didn’t knock any of you out like he did Neil. You looped an arm around Sans’s neck and waved to him as he flew away, blending suspiciously well with the night sky despite his white fur.

The three of you watched him fly off in silence. Eventually, Edge broke the silence. He walked up and caught Stretch’s hand in his own. “It appears that the two of you will need a new friendship bonding activity.”

“Yeah,” Stretch mourned. “Can’t watch that show anymore.” He looked over to where Edge was kneeling beside Neil, examining him. He was already on his phone calling who-knows-who but you had no doubt that he was taking care of things.

“How about pottery?” you suggested.

“Never again,” Sans said, a miserable edge to his voice. You bit back a sigh. Cool, so we were going to be doing the whole “beat myself up over not coming to help with the seemingly innocuous situation because I’m an emo royal guard and should know everything at all times, waaaah” thing. Neat.

“Nah, too dirty,” Stretch said over the sound of Sans blaming himself. “I only have one dirty hobby I wanna get up to and that’s reserved for bonding time with the edgelord.”

“Please, gods, don’t tell us more about that,” Sans muttered.

“How about jogging?” Edge suggested.

“Bite your tongue!” you said, setting Stretch up to add--

“Let me do it for you,” so that Sans could groan again.

“How about…”

The conversation continued, lighthearted and full of laughter, until it was time to go home, feelings of shame buried deep under teasing. It wouldn’t go away forever, of course not, and you would eventually have to talk about it, but for now Sans was okay. As for you and Stretch, you were sure you’d find a new hobby in no time.


	30. Stars Allign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadtrips are great for bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This definitely isn't exactly what the prompt was going for AT ALL, but it happened and it was too cute for me to resist. I love these idiots.

You hated long drives, but you had to admit that they were great for bonding. You were curled up in the front seat of the purple Astrovan--the boys insisted, explaining that it was customary for the only female to ride up front in a van full of males, despite the fact that you were feet shorter than some of them--with the maps app pulled up on your phone lazily giving directions. Edge was driving, his control issues unable to relinquish control of the vehicle to anyone except Sans. Unfortunately, Sans wasn’t along for this particular trip; one of the former captains had to stay behind to make sure the Embassy didn’t burn down. You weren’t sure what negotiations they went through to arrive at this solution, but whatever it was, Sans was back in New New Home and you were helping navigate through the desert.

Literally everyone else was asleep; Stretch and Blue were snuggled up together in the middle seat with Jupiter, Papyrus, and Mars all sprawled out in the back. Comic was curled up on the floor by the door despite Edge’s threats to stay safely buckled in beside Blue. Even though you’d been in the car for several hours now, you didn’t feel especially tired. Your allergies hated the desert (as you’d learned when your team went out to New Mexico) so you took some Claritin. Unfortunately, it seemed to have a very meth-like effect on your body. You were literally bouncing in your seat, frantically talking to Edge about anything that flitted into your mind.

“And then there’s Mendeleev,” you were explaining. “Like, he made the periodic table and it was all hypothetical, right, but he was so sure he was right that when a French dude said he discovered an element that didn’t line up with his table, he argued with him. And it turned out that Mendeleev was right and the French dude was wrong!”

“Hmm,” Edge said.

You bit your lip in an effort to  _ stop talking _ . “I’m really sorry, Edge,” you said. “I honestly didn’t know that Claritin was going to get me high.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Edge said.

“Really? Because you couldn’t sound less interested if you tried.”

Edge sighed. “No, that’s not it. I just feel… uncomfortable.”

“With me?” You felt an inexplicable hurt blossom in your chest. You and Edge weren’t exactly friends, not like you and Stretch, but he was Sans’s best friend and you spent a lot of time together. You thought that you were pretty tight but maybe not.

“What? No, of course not. You are one of my closest friends. You are the datemate of my best friend, save for Stretch.”

That soothed you like a nice aloe vera gel on a sunburn. “Okay, well then what do you mean?”

“I am unaccustomed to taking vacations.”

You almost laughed with relief, and you probably would have if it didn’t sound so much like a confession. Instead, you schooled your face into a look of understanding. “Well, this is important to Stretch,” you said.

“Yes, I know, and I should be glad to be here. But I find myself missing work. And there’s also the matter of…” he trailed off for a second and glanced at you. You kept your face as impassive as possible and let him wool gather until he was ready. “I am the only protector here,” he said finally.

The only…? A lightbulb clicked on over your head. “You miss Sans,” you said with a smile.

“No! I just! I’m not used to him not being around when we have large groups and we are out of town. It is not as if we can simply call Embassy security if there is an issue, and Red is not here either!”

Be still your soul, Edge was admitting to you that he missed his brother and bestie.

You managed not to squee at him and pinch his cheekbones. “It’s okay to miss them,” you said gently. “I miss Sans, too. And, honestly, I kind of miss Red, even though he’s a weird little goblin man.”

Edge laughed softly. “He is a weird little goblin man, but I would love to see his reaction to you calling him that.”

You shrugged. "Red adores me."

Edge shook his head but said, "Yes, well. He does seem to have really come around on you." His eye lights looked distant and sad as they focused on the road ahead of him. He really missed his brother.

“We’re almost there, though,” you told him. “Then we get to sleep at the hotel, do a bit of sightseeing, and go back.” You noticed him tense a little, so you kept talking. “I’ll split guard duty with you.”

He glanced at you for the briefest second before turning back to the road. “I have no intention of guarding in the hotel.” You didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, choosing instead to just stare at him. “Fine,” he admitted after a minute. “Maybe just a few walks through the hallway.”

“Maybe,” you agreed. “You have to sleep some if you’re not going to let me drive at all.”

“Right,” Edge said. “You’re right. It is unsafe for me to drive the whole way and not sleep. I will… I will allow you to split guard duty with me.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“For giving you work to do to soothe my anxieties?” 

You could hear the tenseness in his voice, heard the unasked question of whether or not you thought he was being stupid.  _ I am in love with a former captain of the royal guard myself, idiot, _ you didn’t say out loud. Instead, you quirked a smile and elaborated, “For trusting me.”

You didn’t miss that he blushed crimson despite the darkness in the van. “You’ve earned it,” he murmured.

“If y’all are done singin’ kumbaya up there, are we there yet?” Comic asked, white eye lights shining up at you from the floor of the van.

“Looks like it,” Stretch said with a yawn. “Look, guys.”

Brothers were shaken awake as the van came to a stop and pulled off the side of the road. Everyone piled out and Comic yanked his old telescope out of the back. Everyone stood staring up at the sky, a bright red light shining down on your group. None of the astronomers had to point out Mars to anyone else; there was only one thing it could be in the night sky. Comic futzed around getting the telescope set up and everyone took turns looking through it. 

Tonight, in this little strip of the country, everything aligned perfectly so that Comic’s telescope was enough to view Mars in great detail. The astronomers in the family presented the plan to road trip out here a couple of weeks ago and the planners of the family made it happen. It made your soul swell a little bit to know how unbelievably excited the skeletons were, each filing forward and looking through the telescope, making soft sounds of excitement and joy. You took your turn, of course, then stepped off to the side and pulled out your phone.

It rang once, twice, then, “Eleanor? Are you okay, my dear?” 

You smiled at the sound of Sans’s voice, his always-deep baritone laced with tiredness and wine. You knew Mutt was there too; he declined to go, and you imagined that it was because his brother couldn’t, though he feigned a lack of interest in the trip as a whole. “I’m fine, babe. We just got here.”

You could almost hear him settle back against the couch. “Wonderful. How is it?”

“It really is pretty. We’re coming next time. You, me, and Mutt.”

“It won’t happen for another hundred years,” he pointed out.

You laughed. “Monsters and mages practically live forever. No reason we shouldn’t still be here to see it.”

A beat of silence, then Sans said, “You really want to still be with this old bag of bones in a hundred years?”

You glanced over your shoulder at your little family, all of them gathered around the telescope with Edge standing back a bit watching them indulgently. “Babe,” you said, “there is absolutely nothing I want more in the multiverse.”

“That’s… Well! Of course! I also…”

You smiled indulgently while we tried to talk his way out of his embarrassment. You let him go for a minute before saying, “Want me to describe it to you?”

“Yes,  _ please _ , save me from myself. I may have overindulged in the wine tonight.”

“Put it on speaker so Mutt can hear too.”

There was a shuffling, then you heard Mutt calling out a greeting to you. You glanced back up at the sky and began describing everything--the trip, the telescope, the moon--to two of your favorite monsters on the planet.

Sans had asked if you still wanted to be with him in a century when the universe lined itself back up like this again. As you listened to his laughter on the other end of the phone, you couldn’t help but look up at the sky and wish for another hundred years exactly like this.


	31. Skeletons in the Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has their secrets and reasons for not sharing them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S THE END OF THE MONTH! But it's not the end of this story. See the post chapter for my future plans for this story :)
> 
> TW: Short description of PTSD-type reactions, suicidal thoughts (brief)

_ Everyone has their secrets and reasons for keeping them. _

**_Red_ **

Red cursed as he dropped the tiny screwdriver he was working with and leaned back, pushing up the magnifying glass he wore over his right eye light. He grumbled and massaged his tired phalanges. He’d been at it for hours today, not to mention the hours upon hours he’d spent on this up to this point already. He just couldn’t get it right, and it had to be perfect. He silently wondered if this was how his bro felt all the time about everything, that everything had to be perfect or the world’d fall apart. In this case, though, the world would fall apart if he fucked this up. He’d never admit it, but Sans was everythin’ to ‘im. Sure, he wore Red’s collar, but that wasn’t the same as bein’ married in this ‘verse. It was more like bein’ engaged here, and if Sans didn’t realize how serious Red was… well. Red didn’ want to admit to the nightmares, the ones where Sans’d thrown the collar back at him, the delicate little soul buckle shatterin’. He’d wake up in the night, panting, terrified, only able to calm when he felt Sans beside him. So yeah, this ring needed to be perfect. If he was gonna ask Sans to marry ‘im, he had to do it perfect, ‘cause he was positive he wouldn’ survive if Sans said no.

**_Jupiter_ **

It was a cliche, he knew it was, and he was certainly above cliches. There was absolutely, positively no reason that he had to react to the pesky feelings he was having, and certainly not now, not now that he was so close to graduating as the very first monster RN. He was busy and his life was so fulfilling as it was. He had no need of… Well! He couldn’t, he hadn’t the time! And what if it wasn’t a good fit and then he had ruined everything? No. No, he couldn’t do that. Not worth the risk! Besides, his brother would hate it, and he only wanted for Sans to be happy, even if that meant maybe not being totally happy himself. But he is! Happy! He doesn’t need…

Jupiter hung his head a little and continued his jog through the park, ignoring the cute little human woman who was parked on one of the benches. Her bright eyes and big smile meant nothing to him, nope, he didn’t need what she offered! He tuned out the tiny yips of the little puppies she was trying to get rid of, the adorable bumbling paws, the sweet fuzzy faces. He was too busy for a puppy, he didn't need a puppy. He didn’t need a pet. He didn’t…

**_Sans (Comic)_ **

He was always grateful that there was a lock on the lab door. No one came in anyway, not anymore, not since Stretch started helpin’ the Scoobies, so he didn’ really need to worry about someone coming into his secret fortress. Papyrus even gave up tryin’ to clean the place years ago, so there was no reason to be so paranoid. He couldn’t help it, though, as he bent over his work, ‘cause if he got caught… Well, that could just fuck up everythin’, couldn’ it? His phalanges flew over the keys as he finished his last corrections, then with one more glance around, he hit submit. His permanent grin got bigger as he leaned back in his chair. The confirmation message popped up:  _ Thank you, Ashton Elton Kens, for your submission to Her World Magazine! Your article, Twenty Ways to Tell He’s Ready to Propose, will appear in next month’s issue. As always, payment will be sent to your PayPal account. Thanks, The Editorial Team. _

**_Mars_ **

Mars was ashamed of himself. His red eye light focused on the pile before him as his magic tried to rebel. He hated feelin’ like this, but what else could ‘e do? After… After everything, he couldn’ just… Not go through with it! It’d be against everythin’ he an’ his bro stood for, everythin’ the people of Snowdin stood for! He… He could do this. He shuffled the little brown sticks around an’ forced his magic to form again. He shoved one into his mouth and forced his magic to incorporate it before he puked. It was awful, worse tastin’ than dirt, but he had to keep goin’. He shoved another in his mouth and fought nausea in the stomach he didn’ have. Ugh. Pretzels. Mars _hated_ pretzels.

**_HorrorFell Sans_ ** ~~ (still needs a nickname, bless) ~~

He weren’t always sorry. There’s a lot he did he ain’t sorry about. One time, he had ta dust a whole family o’ LV trollers when they tried ta dust Paps one too many times. He weren’t sorry for that. He weren’t sorry that he killed that fuckin’ flower over and over. He was… a little sorry for the folks he ate, but not really. If he hadn’ killed ‘em someone else would’ve. Least this way it was quick. He was sorry he couldn’ save that one, though. ‘E was soft, nice. Didn’ act all scared. He told Sans he wasn’ a bad monster, jus’ in a bad way. ‘E never told Paps about ‘im, just hid ‘im in the basement where Paps never went. It was the safest place, only way ta keep the folks of Snowdin from eatin’ ‘im. Made sure ‘e had food, was warm enough. Tried ta keep ‘im safe ‘til the barrier broke. But his damn mage magic attracted that damn flower and well… Not everyone comes back after a reset.

**_HorrorFell Papyrus_ ** ~~ (also needs a nickname) ~~

He wondered how long it would take him to dust if he just refused to absorb the new surface food. Without him as a parasitic leech, Sans would be better off. Happier. Now that they were at the surface, that had never been truer. Perhaps he didn’t need to stay here anymore now.

**_Papyrus_ **

He was  _ jealous _ . Stars, he had been jealous for years now, ever since they reached the surface truthfully. His role as ambassador was an honor, of course, but it simply wasn’t… Well. He did not really feel that he was saving the world or anything when he sat in meetings about parking lots. And certainly monsterkind needed money, of course, but he never wanted to discuss anything so mundane as all that! No, he hated it, every one of those meetings. The trips were nice, certainly, and the hotels lovely, but he knew the truth: he wasn’t making a difference. Not like…

Well. Not like he would be if he were in the medical field, was he? No! Jupiter was out there every day, saving lives, always coming home with fascinating stories of using his magic to actually save people! He never had to sit through boring meetings about what color of tile was appropriate for the new Embassy in California, no, he was the one making a difference. Papyrus was ashamed to admit it, and the king had been so kind to offer him the job, but he would rather be anywhere else than in this meeting. He would rather be with Jupiter, saving people, really helping for the first time in his life.

**_Blue_ **

Blue had just as many nightmares as Papy, but he was much quieter about them. He required far less sleep than his brother so the exhaustion didn’t show on his bright little face. He muddle through, acting cute and peppy. He never took a bedmate, not because he didn’t want one necessarily, but because of the  _ nightmares _ . He was fine! He certainly didn’t need to worry anyone, didn’t need Papy to know… He knew his younger brother remembered the resets, remembered the human, had nightmares that he woke from screaming. But he seemed to take some strange comfort in thinking that Blue somehow didn’t know or remember. Inexplicably, his brother decided that Blue couldn’t remember the nightmare they’d lived through, didn’t remember trying over and over to stop the human, didn’t know that no matter what he did, the human would always kill him and then kill Papy. As if Blue hadn’t  _ seen _ all of it over and over himself. Apparently dying that way wasn’t as… deadly as it seemed. Blue always sat up from the pile of dust, always watched his baby brother sob over his empty armor, always went to the judgment hall… Honestly, did Papy think it was easier for him to have to say and do all of the same things just to comfort his brother? Well, it wasn’t. It wasn’t easier. But he was fine, just fine. Papy was fine, happy with Edge, getting therapy, and maybe someday he would be able to admit that he knew too, that spending every day with the human ambassador that looked so much like their murderer (though she wasn’t, of course, she wasn’t) was slowly driving him mad, that he too hated the Temmies though they’d never done anything to them in this universe. Maybe someday he would get to be happy too, but until then, he was the older brother and he was just fine.

**_Stretch_ **

Stretch knew that Edge loved him, had absolutely no doubt except on the dark days. Hundred percent, yep. Nothing else he needed from his honey to know that he loved him; Edge showed him that in a billion ways every single day. All of that was true…

But it didn’t stop him from staring at Sans’s neck ever since Red gave him that damn collar a few months ago. Edge put a ring on it, sure, but he’d never said a word ‘bout a collar and getting Sans drunk had revealed that the collar was some insanely important Underfell thing that not only claimed you as theirs but bound your soul to theirs symbolically or some shit. “‘S not like he owns me,” Sans’d assured him. “More like if somethin’ happened to me, he’d do anythin’ for me. I’m the most important thing to ‘im, like ‘e’d do anythin’ for me, ya know? Real damn romantic. Thought he was gonna have a stroke when ‘e gave it to me.” And Edge’d never said anything to Stretch about a collar. Did he not want to him one? Did he think that Stretch wasn’t good enough for it? Did the ring on his finger mean the same thing to Edge as the collar, or would a collar mean more? Stretch didn’t know, and he couldn’t ask because what if he couldn’t live with the answer? So he just rubbed the ring and tried not to think about it. Because Edge loved him. He knew he did. Right?

**_Edge_ **

Stretch’s texts are often punctuated with emjois of all sorts. Some have obvious meanings: smiley faces, hearts, frownie faces; others, less obvious: eggplants, chili peppers, carrots…

Stretch takes great joy in sending those emojis, sure that his honey doesn’t know what they mean. He loves it even more when Edge texts him back using some absurd combination of the emojis, a combination that would be obscene if he had absolutely any idea what any of it meant. What Stretch has miscalculated is that Edge has Red as an older brother and Red took his responsibility to educate Edge about this world’s courtship customs very, very seriously when Edge began pursuing Stretch. Thus, when Edge sends him a chili pepper, heart, then a carrot, Edge knows exactly what he’s saying. He would never admit it, though. Stretch gets too much joy out of Edge’s alleged ignorance, and there is very little that Edge wouldn’t do to see Stretch smile.

  
  


**_Sans (Black)_ **

Everyone else in the house was still in bed. Excellent. Sans used his blue magic to silently lift a box from the very back of the cabinet, followed by a bowl and some milk. He paused to listen again, senses carefully tuned for the creak of a stair or a rustling of blankets. He didn’t hear anything, so he poured the chocolatey pebbles into the bowl and drowned them in milk, grinning as they immediately began to lose their structural integrety, releasing chocolate powder into the milk. He teleported to the living room and sat down in front of the coffee table, mere inches from the television so that he could keep the volume low. He flipped it on and wrapped himself in the blanket from the back of the couch. He was exactly on time. He couldn’t contain his excitement as the tacky rap theme song blared and images of anime children and digital pets flashed on the screen. He settled in to watch his favorite show while eating his secret favorite breakfast. Saturdays were Sans’s favorite day of the week.

_Everyone has their secrets._


	32. Post Game Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future plans :)

Hi everybody!

Thanks for reading this. That anyone read this at all is... honestly really cool to me! I've never shared my writing with anyone before and it was really powerful to realize that people like it? When I started out, I figured I'd do this month and then probably be done, but I like it. It's helping me! So I'm going to keep going. I have some storylines planned out for this universe, so I will be making this into a work and adding stories to the work as I complete them. My goal is to update the work in some way at least once per week. I have already started the first two storylines and have outlined a few other ideas for this AU. So... it won't be every day, but their adventures will continue! I am also working on some concepts for other stories outside of this AU that would be more of a full story on their own, rather than this loose on-going situation I'm building here. So if you enjoyed this, keep an idea out for that!

Once again, thank you for checking this out. I've loved writing for you and I hope you allow me to continue to in the future :)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt List:  
> 1\. Abandoned Places  
> 2\. Deep Space Horror  
> 3\. Hitchhiker  
> 4\. Abduction  
> 5\. Paranoia/Conspiracy  
> 6\. HAM, Public Access Radio  
> 7\. Something's Wrong With the Birds  
> 8\. Things in Jars  
> 9\. A Dark Tower  
> 10\. Floral Horror  
> 11\. An Ordinary Child  
> 12\. An Ordinary Church  
> 13\. Isolation  
> 14\. Radio Signal  
> 15\. Dimensional Traveller  
> 16\. Found in a Thrift Store  
> 17\. This House is Hungry  
> 18\. Whispering in Your Ear  
> 19\. Alien Implant  
> 20\. Chemical Spill  
> 21\. Miles and Miles of Tunnels  
> 22\. A Local Devil  
> 23\. Empty Gas Station  
> 24\. Men in Black  
> 25\. Don't Eat That/Diner  
> 26\. Something in the Fog  
> 27\. Mesmerizing Pattern  
> 28\. In the Cornfield  
> 29\. Cryptid of Your Choice  
> 30\. The Stars Align  
> 31\. Skeletons in the Closet
> 
> **I'm super honored that a work was inspired by this one! Check it out! https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876551/chapters/65577247 **

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [WeirdTober 2020](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876551) by [FlyWIthSerenity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyWIthSerenity/pseuds/FlyWIthSerenity)




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